


Not If You Were the Last Guy in the World

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Aliens, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Phancest, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dan and Phil Howell never got along as brothers, even into adulthood. This all changes when they are forced to work together to survive an alien takeover of the planet.Yes this is Phancest. You have been warned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought that phandomsub's "Home Run" was super hot, so I decided to try my hand at Phancest since it seems to be picking up in popularity again because of her amazing work. My characters really aren't anything like hers, but if you want some good smut I suggest checking her work out since it inspired me. There will be eventual smut in this, but strap in because it's a slow burn and I haven't even finished my first fic yet. I'm planning on this being multichapter, but don't want to commit to a certain number of chapters yet. 
> 
> Drop a comment below if you like this idea. Or if you don't. I just want attention.

Dan hated his older brother. He made this clear to everyone, including said brother, on a daily basis. He hated his cheery demeanor. He hated his stupid colorful socks that always got mixed up with his in the wash. He hated that their mother made them spend bonding time together. He hated how he ate all the cereal. And most of all, he hated how everyone acted like they were so alike just because, as teenagers, they were both gay and emo. Dan was nothing like Phil. He wasn’t some stupid, sunny optimist without a care in the world, and he was never going to be. Despite being relatively close as kids, Dan just couldn’t forgive Phil for not getting the shitty genetic fuck up that was depression. It seemed that Dan always got the short end of the stick in life, and even though it wasn’t his fault, Dan couldn’t help but take all that resentment out on his older sibling.  

            Phil didn’t hate his younger brother. Into adulthood, he kept trying to build bridges. He thought that maybe after going away to Uni, the distance would help heal whatever it was that made Dan hate him so much once he hit 13. Phil tried to be cool. He offered to buy Dan alcohol the minute he turned 21. Offered to take him along on Spring Break trips. Once he got his first out of college job, he even bought Muse tickets for the both of them knowing that they were Dan’s favorite band at the time. Dan accepted these gifts, but never acted more than apathetic to Phil because of them.

            They didn’t see each other for a few years while Dan took a gap year after high school and Phil began work at his first job, but a bit of bad luck hit the Howell family, and Phil was laid off because of his lack of seniority, and Dan couldn’t manage to stay in Uni, so they ended up living under the same roof once again. For the most part, they avoided each other. In fact, the whole family seemed to avoid each other. Their mother, Ruth, always spent nights away with friends, with book clubs and art society meetings, living the empty-nest life despite the nest being suddenly refilled. Their father, John, had always been a gruff sort of guy, the kind that on TV had a soft side, but in real life seemed rather done with his family. Neither Dan nor Phil had ever been close to him because, like their mother, he was exceedingly disappointed with having not just one, but two gay sons. This should have brought Dan and Phil closer, but it didn’t. It only made Dan more resentful of Phil because, at sixteen, he was the second child to have to come out, which was arguably worse than being the first (or only). John went to work, ate dinner alone, then retreated to his man cave in the basement without so much as a word towards his sons. This had pretty much been the norm since Dan was sixteen, and no one questioned it.

            Their lives were normal, albeit a little blue. When Dan wasn’t constantly battling his depression with little to no help from his family outside the occasional ride to therapy, he was being berated by his mother for not being able to settle on anything in Uni. Phil, on the other hand, spent his days job searching, but it hadn’t been panning out as he planned. He had one interview with a radio station that got his hopes up, only to have disappointment sink in as days turned to weeks without a reply call. For the most part, though, the boys managed to live quiet, slightly separate lives. There was still the occasional nasty quip from Dan when Phil would enter the room in search of cereal, or the emotion laden fights when Phil would wander into Dan’s room asking questions like “Why did you use my shampoo?” that would turn into arguments about whether or not Phil’s life was easier than Dan’s. Childish arguments that usually ended up Dan storming out of the room or Phil crying (and then being called a pussy by Dan).

            This was their lives when the world decided to end.

* * *

 

            “Oh my God,” said Dan with an eyeroll from his spot at the breakfast nook “Can you not?” The sun was cheerily throwing beams into the kitchen that morning, lighting up the whole room in shades of golden yellow. It was early for Dan, but the only time he could schedule therapy that week had been in the morning, so Dan was forced to wake up at 8AM instead of his usual afternoon schedule. When Phil entered the kitchen, the nineteen year old had been sulking over a bowl of oatmeal, his all black attire contrasting with the room.

            Phil stopped in his tracks, trying to quirk his brow playfully and not absorb any of his brother’s negativity. Kill him with kindness.

            “What am I doing now that displeases you, Queen Danny?” he asked lightly. This earned Phil another eye roll.

            “I bet you think that’s clever, don’t you?” griped Dan. Sensing that he was in one of “those” moods, Phil went back to his quest for cereal and reached atop the fridge, pushing past the healthy stuff his mum ate to find the sugar laden chocolatey goodness that was his usual fair.

            “I can be clever sometimes, but I wouldn’t call that clever. Anyway, what could I possibly be doing other than _existing_ that is making you so mad this morning? All I did was walk in the room, you spork,” he said. Dan snorted, pushing around his oatmeal with disdain.

            “Stop being cheeky, you know,” grumbled Dan. When Phil turned around to grab a bowl from the pantry next to Dan, he assessed the younger man’s face. He was looking down moodily, prominent bags under his eyes, scrolling aimlessly through Twitter with his phone on his lap. Trying to offer an olive branch, Phil placed the cereal on the table, along with another bowl for his brother.

            “I don’t know, actually. Would you like some of my cereal?” said Phil as he grabbed the milk from the fridge. Seating himself at the table, he plopped the milk between them and began to pour himself a bowl.

            “I’m good. I’m already fat enough, thanks,” mumbled Dan as he typed on his phone, still refusing to meet Phil’s eyes. With a frown, Phil took a bite of his cereal. Dan certainly wasn’t the beanpole he was, but by no means was his little brother fat. Still, Phil knew it would be useless to vocalize this, because there was no one’s opinion Daniel valued less than his brother’s.

            They sat in silence for a while before Dan sighed, locking his phone and leaning back in his seat casually.

            “It’s your walk, okay? You’re doing your ‘just fucked’ walk trying to rub it in my face that you get guys and I don’t,” spat Dan. Phil stopped eating, surprised at the venom in his voice. When he looked up from his cereal, Dan couldn’t help but feel more angry at the dopey expression on his face. Swallowing, Phil shook his head patronizingly and looked back down at his cereal.

            “First of all,” said Phil in between bites “That’s not true. I haven’t had sex with anyone in a long time. Not that that’s any of your business. And second of all, even if that were the case, that’s a very stupid thing to get all upset and jealous over, Daniel.” From the corner of his eye, Phil could see Dan prickle with irritation at the use of his full name. There was nothing that got under his skin more than Phil acting like the older, wiser sibling. Phil knew this, of course.

            “Who said I was jealous?” retorted Dan immediately. Now it was Phil’s turn to roll his eyes.

            “Oh please. You’re just trying to find something to be upset about because you didn’t get enough sleep last night,” said Phil. This really made Dan mad, as he stood up and began pacing around the kitchen.

            “Stop acting like our mum, I’m not ten _Philip_ ,” yelled Dan “And besides, don’t pretend you don’t love to flaunt how oh-so-perfect you are every fucking five minutes you’re in this house. Philly, with his college degree and booming Grindr profile and sweet demeanor that everyone loves. It’s sickening and cliché.”

            Phil scoffed, not even bothering to look up from his cereal. It wasn’t like him to engage with Dan when he was like this, but it was so irritating just how touchy he got sometimes. Phil was starting to get sick of walking on eggshells.

            “Oh yeah, I’m so great, living at home at 23 with no job, much less a boyfriend. I’m really living the dream,” sassed Phil. He finished off his cereal, standing up to place the bowl in the sink. He was met with Dan standing in front of it, arms crossed and cheeks puffed up. It made him look five years younger, in Phil’s mind, and didn’t help with his urge to patronize further. If he hadn’t been angry, Phil might think he looked a little cute. But he was angry—and tired of the fighting, if he were honest with himself.

            “Move,” said Phil with exhaustion. Dan glared.

            “Make me,” he responded. Phil sighed, placing on the bowl on the counter.

            “You know, for someone who doesn’t want to be treated like he’s ten, you sure act like you’re ten,” replied Phil. He went about tidying up the rest of their breakfast, including scooping out Dan’s oatmeal into the bin. Dan muttered to himself, something about “yeah well at least I’m not boring” but Phil ignored him. As he was finishing up cleaning, Dan finally stopped muttering and spoke to him.

            “So I guess what I’ve learned from this is you weren’t walking funny because of some guy, but rather it’s because you have _a giant stick up your ass_ like always,” snapped Dan. At this point, Phil had had it. He whipped around, glaring at his little brother full force, enough to make Dan take a step back toward the den.            

            “No, my darling baby brother, if you must know it’s because I had my fingers up to the knuckle in my ass last night while jerking off to porn because I’ve really got nothing better to do. Do you feel better now that you have that knowledge?”

            Dan didn’t reply, instead he just stalked off like he always did when he lost an argument, only stopping to shoot an acidic look Phil’s way before heading out the door with his mom’s keys.

* * *

 

Phil spent the day sending out resumes on Indeed and tidying the house. His father was away at work, which while not all that different than when he was home, still put a mental relief on Phil. He began to feel calmer when his mother left to go on one of her various “Girl’s Trips” she had planned throughout the year—this time to some type of quilting convention in Brighton. She left via cab after only a quick peck on Phil’s cheek while he did dishes and a short “bye” that sounded as cold as the kiss felt. For an hour or so, Phil had the whole place to himself. Then Dan came in with not so much as a “hello,” slamming the door behind him and tromping up the stairs noisily. Phil heard the sound of Dan’s bed legs scraping the floor as he presumably immediately lept unceremoniously into bed. Ignoring him, Phil continued to modify and send out resumes on his laptop on the couch in the den.

The house was silent, as usual, but it was calm. When Phil would think back on it later, it was the calm before the storm.

Six o’clock rolled around with no sign of John. Phil didn’t question it, didn’t call his cell phone, and simply went about making dinner because when their mum wasn’t around, Phil did the cooking. He wasn’t good at it by any means, but he at least had the sense to try to attempt to make something other than frozen pizza. Setting up the Crockpot on the counter, Phil emptied a few cans of soup into the bowl and added a thawed chicken breast. He set the crockpot to high, washed his hands, and began chopping up some celery.

 The majority of his day had been spent sending out resumes, replying to emails, making follow-up calls, and, yes, interspersing these activities with playing his ongoing Sims 4 game. The true highlight of his day was when his one Sim, Dil, got abducted and impregnated by aliens. It was dorky but true. Yet he felt relief in cooking because it gave him something else to focus on that was necessary but not nearly as mind numbing. Usually Phil’s nights wound down after dinner as well. After this, his plans were to play some Mario Kart and go to bed early, since he had a few interviews lined up for the next day near one of the bigger cities about an hour away. While Phil certainly didn’t like living at home, he didn’t find the monotony to be too bad. Phil was laid back enough that he was able to take this transition period in mostly stride. Occasionally, he found himself frustrated, particularly at his lack of social life, but for the most part, it was fine.

Dan, on the other hand, seemed to oscillate between restless and depressed. He came downstairs as the smell of the chicken began to fill the kitchen and narrowed his eyes at Phil.

“Is it done yet?” he asked in his signature bratty tone. Phil shook his head.

“Nope, should be another hour. Would you like to watch some TV with me while we wait?” asked Phil as he scooped up the celery, emptying it into the crockpot. Dan looked away, his lips pursed as a “no” was prepared on his mouth, but hesitated. They had both spent the day completely isolated from people and even Dan needed to get in some social time ( _sort of like a Sim_ , Phil thought idly).

Dan shrugged, but turned heel into the den behind him and plopped on the couch. His arms were crossed and pulled close to his chin, hands covered by his long black hoodie sleeves. It made him appear small and tired. Phil gently sat beside him after finishing up in the kitchen, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and cued up their Netflix.

“You like American Horror Story, right?” asked Phil. Dan shrugged, looking down at his cuticles and picking at them until they bled. Phil took that as a “yes” and pulled up an episode from season 3 he was halfway through watching. Phil knew Dan had seen the whole thing and even had a “Normal People Scare Me” sweater that he wore on occasion. It was a very “Dan” type of sweater and looked rather cute on him.

In fact, Phil thought a lot of the things Dan did or said were cute. Maybe that was just because he was the older brother and would always view Dan as his “little” sibling. Still, there was a part of Phil’s brain that always wondered if they would be friends if they weren’t brothers or, weirdly enough, something more. They were incredibly similar, whether Dan liked to admit it or not. And Phil really did think Dan was strikingly cute, handsome even.

It wasn’t something Phil liked to stress over. He believed it was normal to have the occasional incestuous dream or thought. It wasn’t anything extended, wasn’t anything Phil really gave much thought to because it wasn’t even like they were friendly as brothers, much less anything more. Phil didn’t long for anything more; truly, he just wished Dan would like him again like when they were little.

Silently, the two watched an episode of Coven. It was turning out to be Phil’s favorite season because he liked how each of the witches had their own special gift. Occasionally, he’d make a comment about a character or scene, to which Dan would respond with monosyllables or a grunt of some sort. This went on until the timer went off in the kitchen and Phil paused the show to retrieve their dinners.

During this time, Dan decided to go on Twitter. That was when he saw the trending hashtag #lightsaboveSeattle. He clicked on it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: pretty bad homophobia

Phil put together two plates of the chicken recipe he’d found online. According to the recipe, it went best with rice. He heated up a dish of leftover brown rice from two days ago then plated it, drizzling the chicken and soup creation atop. Heading into the living room, he set up two TV trays before putting down a plate for his brother and himself.

As he worked, Phil thought about the new fern he had bought a week ago that was dying on the porch. He was so wrapped up in getting dinner together and thinking about his plant that he didn’t notice Daniel glued to his phone, completely unaware of what he was doing. It wasn’t until Phil sat down and began to dig into the mediocre dinner that he paid any attention to his brother.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” said Phil trying to keep the edge from his voice “But it tastes fine if you add a little salt.” Phil hated it when Dan didn’t eat because he knew it was a symptom of his depression. He also couldn’t help but take a little personal offense because while he was by no means a great cook, he at least made an effort, which was more to say than the family members. Phil didn’t expect any thanks from Dan—he was realistic, after all—but Dan eating his food was at least one form of admiration.

 Dan didn’t respond, he only kept scrolling through Twitter, mouth agape, before finally looking up. Reaching for the remote, he switched off the Netflix and changed the TV to the regular cable.

“Hey!” said Phil between a mouthful of chicken “What’re you doing?”

“Shut up! Somethings going on,” said Dan, scrolling through the channels to find the news station. He finally located the BBC and switched to that. On the screen, the two news anchors were reporting in front of a picture he’d seen on Twitter. In the early afternoon sky was a barely-visible _thing_ with six white glowing buttons on the bottom. It was there, but it wasn’t. It blended into the sky mostly, but a curvature of some oddly shaped object could be made out, like the ripple coming off hot pavement. Seeing the image live was surreal, because Dan could make out the image of a bird running into it than dropping down into the city below.

“What, another terrorist attack?” asked Phil bluntly. Dan shook his head and was silent, pointing to the TV.

_“To any of you joining us live, we are currently looking at a live feed from Seattle of unidentified lights in the sky. According to latest reports, the President of the United States, Donald Trump, has confirmed that these lights are not of US origins, and no other country has laid claim to these lights either. We just getting off the phone with an eyewitness from the States who has reported that it appears that the lights are attached to a larger structure of some sort that is difficult to make out with the naked eye. Some scientists are saying that this is likely a result of the fog in the area that began this morning, although some witnesses on the scene are saying that this structure is, in fact, invisible. Right now, we will keep you updated on further information as it becomes available.”_

_“In other news it appears that in the same city there have been reports of several supposed mentally ill homeless people attacking bystanders attempting to see the unknown lights. Current reports are stating that there are at least 30 of these attacks confirmed, with five injured and one dead. At the moment we are unable to confirm if these attacks are attached to any type of organized crime or terrorist group, but the Seattle police are warnings Americans to avoid the area near the lights. As a result, half of the city has now been closed off by police, causing massive delays and traffic concerns for its citizens. We are going live now to Amy Chung in Seattle. Amy, what can you tell us about these attacks?”_

“Wow, that’s weird,” said Phil offhandly “I wonder if it has anything to do with North Korea.” Dan scoffed.

“No you idiot, did you not just hear what the reporter said? If it was North Korea, they would definitely be taking ownership. No this is weirder than that,” said Dan. Sitting back, he took note of the food Phil had made for him, and finally leaned forward to take a bite. Despite him calling Phil an idiot mere moments before, Phil felt a little bit of pride and fondness as he watched his little brother eat the food he prepared. Taking a bite of the chicken and rice himself, Phil watched the TV in silence as the new reporter in Seattle talked about how the attacks were done via stabbing, with the one death oddly being linked to someone’s arm being ripped off. He wondered how a homeless person was capable of that and thought maybe the reports had it wrong and that guy was in some sort of accident instead.

For both boys, though, a small part of their brains were nagging them. Sure, this looked like something from an alien horror film, but it couldn’t be. That kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life. There had to be some logical explanation so despite the fact they were thinking it and the people on the news were likely thinking it, no one in the world was going to say the word “aliens” just yet, barring the type who always said aliens any chance they got. No, this had to be some type of military testing gone wrong, or maybe some type of scientific phenomena involving vapors or fireflies or radiation. They would just have to watch and see.

“So… I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” said Phil. This was normal. He always apologized whenever he got pulled into fights his little brother started. It was just reflex for him. He wanted Dan to like him so badly and every time they got into one of these tiffs, he felt like it was his fault for engaging. It only served to push Dan away further.

“What do you mean?” quipped Dan, not meeting his eyes. He knew what Phil meant but, as usual, wanted to act like everything Phil did or said was irrelevant. Still, Phil tried.

“I mean in the kitchen, this morning. I wasn’t very nice and I’m sorry,” said Phil. Dan continued to scarf down the chicken and watch the news. He was silent for so long that Phil didn’t think he was ever going to respond.

“It’s whatever, I don’t care,” mumbled Dan. Then he got up to put his dishes in the sink. Phil thought he would return to keep watching TV, but he didn’t. He heard Dan’s door slam and that was that.

* * *

 

While Phil did the dishes, he kept a livestream of the news up on his iPad on the breakfast nook, just in case. Nothing had changed much except more news of different attacks were coming in every so often of stabbings, but no more teared off limbs. It was nearing 8 now and John wasn’t home. This had Phil concerned, but not worried. He wasn’t close with his father. In fact, he wasn’t really close with anyone in his family since Daniel decided to start hating him when they were teens. He assumed that John had decided to fuck off to some bar or a friend’s house for the night. Who knew, with him.

Phil wasn’t one to hold grudges or hate in his heart, but John really was not someone he cared for. When Phil was little, John wasn’t exactly loving or caring, but he did at least take the boys to the zoo on occasion or taught them how to grill steaks or other little things like that. Ruth was much the same, going through the motions of parenting and meeting the bare minimum when it came to affection. Around 6, both Dan and Phil stopped receiving hugs, but they just assumed they weren’t a “hug” type of family.

This was partially why, as children, Phil had been so affectionate towards Dan. They were each other’s real family until Dan hit middle school, at least. All of Phil’s happiest childhood memories were with Dan. He remembered reading books out loud to Dan until he fell asleep on the top bunk, then shimmying down to the bottom bunk while trying not to wake him. He remembered bossing Dan around as they played pirate games on the wooden swing set in the backyard, which eventually turned to Dan bossing him around since Dan was so damn bossy. He remembers when Dan was on the cusp of teenage hood—about eleven—the two of them fell asleep in a hammock together with their arms and legs all tangled up in the summer sun. Then they got older, and slowly the affection died away. Dan didn’t want to play anymore. He didn’t want to hang out. He didn’t even want to leave his room—he just wanted to sleep. Phil didn’t know how to help him, so he kept his distance. But soon that distance grew and grew and became insurmountable.

After coming out to his parents when he was fifteen, John had thrown up an ice wall and refused to barely look at Phil, much less speak to him. Sitting atop the stairs, Phil had heard John speaking to Ruth about terrible things. He said that Phil would get AIDS and it would be his own fault. That he was going to hell. That he knew this would happen since Phil was so girly from such a young age. That before they knew it, Phil would taint Dan, and he would be gay too.  Ruth never defended her eldest son—she just agreed. This happened for a few nights after he came out, and Phil just sat there silently wiping the tears away and wishing that he had never opened his mouth in the first place.  

When Dan came out as well, things only got worse. Now John refused to speak to Dan and outwardly hated Phil even more, thinking it was his fault. To Phil’s shock, Dan was much the same, blaming Phil for his parent’s hate.

 But what really made Phil hate John was one night when Dan came home late, his eyes obviously reddened from crying (Phil would later find out, via eavesdropping, that Dan’s best friend was moving town that week and he had just gotten back from saying goodbye) and John, from the den, said “Oh look, my second faggot son is finally home. Hope you had a good night slutting around town. Don’t ever let me catch you coming home this late again, because I can practically smell the gay sex off you. I don’t want to think about that.” Obviously, John had been drinking, so he took the beer bottle in his hand, and with a casualness that was nearly psychotic, threw the bottle across the room, missing Dan and hitting the wall behind him with a shatter. Dan, in fear, ran off to his room. Phil, who had been in the kitchen eating a snack, waited until John retreated to the basement. Then he went upstairs to find Dan. Despite his outward hatred for his eldest brother, in that moment Dan didn’t care. He crawled into Phil’s arms, shaking on the verge of a panic attack, and cried for a solid hour. The next morning, neither said anything about it, but Phil remembers how good it felt to hold his little brother again since he had become so touch starved. It was simultaneously the worst and best interaction they’d had as teenagers.

So truthfully, Phil didn’t care if his father was out at a bar or in a ditch somewhere with his head smashed into the steering wheel of his car. He just kept doing dishes.

That was, until a flurry noise on the livestream brought him out of his thoughts. When he twisted around to see what was going on, he nearly dropped the dish in his hand.

There were now lights above London.

* * *

 

Dan’s feet could be heard patting down the stairs quickly as he ran toward the kitchen. Apparently, he’d been watching the livestream from his phone.

“Do you see this?” asked Dan from the threshold in the kitchen. Phil nodded, setting the plate on the counter. Looking up, he saw Dan’s face painted with a mixture of concern and excitement. His cheeks were flushed and he was practically bouncing on his toes with nervous energy. A loose curl had fallen into his eyes.

“I wonder if we could see it from here,” said Phil “Maybe from the roof?” Dan nodded, and began to head back up the stairs. Phil followed, glad to see Dan excited about something for once, even if it was… weird. What could these lights be? Why London and Seattle of all places?

As if reading his mind, Dan came to a sudden halt, causing Phil to run into his back and stumble in the hallway. He rubbed his nose, which had banged right into Dan’s shoulder blade.  Looking down at the livestream in his hands, Dan’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit—they’re above New York now too. What do you think—”

“I have no idea,” said Phil, running a hand through his quiff “This is really weird.”

“Yeah I know. Do you think… Do you think it could be UFO’s? Or is it just some government thing?” asked Dan sheepishly. Phil wanted to laugh and roll his eyes, but it was the first non-loaded question Dan had asked in months. Dan was actually talking to him. And who was he to say that it wasn’t UFO’s? It seemed crazy, sure, but it’s not like Phil hadn’t thought that a few times as well.

Patiently, Phil nodded.

“Possibly. I guess we won’t know until the government tells us. I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon… I mean, anything is possible,” Phil stumbled over his words, overly careful not to offend Dan in any way, shape, or form. He wanted him to feel like he could talk to him again. About anything. Even aliens.

Dan nodded, sort of glassy eyed, then shook his head.

“I’m just being silly. I just hope this isn’t World War Three. Maybe it’s like, some weird solar flare deal. I don’t know. Let’s go see,” said Dan. The two walked into Dan’s room. Clothes in varying shades of black littered the floor and a few band posters hung on the walls. Phil noted that the ticket stubs from their Muse concert were poking from the corner of Dan’s mirror, and it made him smile. Dan’s room was the easiest way to access the roof, albeit a bit dangerous. They just had to climb out the window onto the landing above the kitchenette, then they could hike themselves over to the top with a little bit of upper body strength. They’d gone up their loads of times as kids to watch planes fly by and talk, and luckily had never been caught.

Unlike in Seattle, it was dark in London, so the white lights shown clearly in the night sky. It only took Phil a moment to find them hovering, not to far away, above the main part of the city.  It was clear that whatever the lights were coming from had blended into the night sky—that the invisibility of the object was not caused by fog or mist. Looking over at Daniel, Phil noticed that his mouth had fallen open and he was shaking, just a bit.

“Dan? Are you okay?” asked Phil. Dan’s mouth shut and he looked away with jaded eyes. His shaking hands turned to fists.

“Yes, I’m fine, why do you always ask stupid shit like that?” quipped Dan. Phil sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Because I care about you,” he said plainly. Dan scoffed, but his eyes didn’t leave the lights.

“Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically. But it was weaker than usual, a little dimmed by the intimidation rolling off the lights. It was affecting Phil too, if he were honest with himself. It just felt wrong, so wrong, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to grab Dan and hide in the basement wrapped in each other’s arms until those freaky lights went away. Instead, he just stood there beside his little brother, both them of them inching just a bit closer to each other. Words and history and hate aside, they were drawn to each other, an instinctive reaction to the foreign—to stay close to what was familiar, to family.

They stood there for the longest time watching and waiting.

They both wondered what this meant


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight so I've never written smut. I've been trying to for a long time now, but this is legit my first time ever getting close. So yeah, here is your warning that 1. this chapter will be getting a bit *spicy* and 2. if it's bad, I'm sorry. I tried my bestest. 
> 
> I promise the plot will return next chapter. I just needed some time for my own gratuitous fanservice.

Right as they were preparing to leave the roof, Dan’s phone lit up and began shaking with a new message. It was one of those emergency alerts that automatically went to iPhones, like an Amber Alert or severe storm warning. Only this one read:

_Civil Authorities have issued a shelter-in-place warning: The City of London Police Department received several conflicting reports at approximately 7:45PM that there are various unidentified lights hovering above the city at this time. It is unconfirmed but the aircraft are not thought to be hostile. Citizens are still advised to avoid the inner part of the city and stay indoors.  Citizens are also advised to move to their basement or interior rooms at this time with all doors and windows locked and wait for further instruction from authorities._

Dan’s eyes widened and Phil peeked over his shoulder at the message.

“Are they serious?” said Dan. Both turned their eyes back to the lights, now looking not with interest, but a touch of fear.

“It’s probably just a precautionary measure,” said Phil. Still, his voice lacked conviction and both were edging toward the landing a little quicker now. Phil stepped aside to let Dan in first, and without hesitation Dan slid back into his room. To Phil’s surprise, Dan lingered near the doorway, watching Phil with hooded eyes. He wrung his hands nervously and kept looking down at the alert on his phone.

“So… um yeah, I’m going down to the basement, I think,” said Dan slowly. Color rose to his cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet Phil’s eyes. He stalked off down the hall, pulling his hoodie sleeves down as if they would cover his embarrassment, but Phil followed behind him this time instead of leaving him be.

“I’ll check the doors and windows to make sure they’re locked,” said Phil. As Dan opened the basement door, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“That’s probably not necessary you know,” he said, his fingers drumming against the wooden door. Phil shook his head.

“I don’t care. I’m paranoid,” replied Phil. The truth was while Phil was perturbed by the alert, he was more concerned about his brother’s reaction. He didn’t want Dan to be scared, but even more so he didn’t want Dan to pretend he wasn’t scared. So he decided to be the overly cautious one—to do the things that Dan himself obviously wanted to do and spare him any embarrassment. It felt as automatic as breathing to protect his brother’s feelings as well as his wellbeing.

As Dan slumped off into the basement, Phil did a quick sweep of the house. It was an older house and most of the latches hadn’t been undone since summer. They were the older twist latches from the late forties that had been replaced a handful of times—brass and covered in dust. Phil found one undone latch in his bedroom from a month ago when he opened rear window to smoke a little weed he’d brought home from visiting a friend from Uni, but other than that the home was sealed shut. He deadbolted the front door—John be damned—and headed into the basement with an armful of pillows along with a hopeful board game. Phil felt it was a longshot, but he would have killed to play Battleships with Dan.

Phil found himself so wrapped up in thinking about Dan that he had almost forgotten about the chaos outside their home. As he carefully made his way down the rickety basement stairs on socked foot at a time, he pondered the lights outside. If the city was sending out an alert like this, did that really mean these could be aliens? They had said they weren’t hostile. But still. Aliens were the type of thing one believed in or didn’t believe in—like God or conspiracy theories or other nebulous maybes. To have something go from a possibility to a reality, particularly something like life outside humans, was world shaking. Yet Phil felt distant from it all. That was a problem for politicians and church leaders and believers—at the current moment he just needed to sort out if his job interviews were still on for tomorrow.

Dan was sat on the cold, stone floor of the unfinished basement so as soon as Phil deposited the pillows, he offered the most fluffy one up. Dan took it but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead he was glued to his phone, scrolling through social media to see how others were reacting to the news. Phil dropped a down pillow beside Dan, scooting close and looking over his shoulder once again. Dan jerked away.

“Don’t you have your own phone?” he snapped. With a sigh, Phil pushed aside the cardboard Battleships box with his toe so it was now hidden under the stairs. He then pulled out his Android and began his own scroll through Twitter. It appeared people were already making memes about the lights.

An hour or so passed like this in silence. Occasionally, Dan would flip to his stomach or lay down on his back. Phil wandered over to the unused pool table at one point, shot a few balls into the holes, and then returned to his seat on the floor near Dan. They grew bored quickly. Of course, Phil kept tabs on the latest reports, but every update only continued to warn citizens to stay where they were until further instruction.

Then, the power went out.

In the dark, Dan immediately whipped his head around to Phil. His face was only lit by the blue of his phone screen, but it showed a visage of shock.

“What the fuck….” said Dan. Phil looked around, blinking rapidly in confusion, then peered back at his phone. He refreshed the news page to find out about outages. After only five minutes, a news article appeared.

“Half the city,” muttered Phil. Dan scooted closer, now peering over Phillip’s shoulder, and Phil could feel the warmth coming off him. Dan had always been the warmer of the two since, unlike Phil, who was rail thin at all times, Dan could and did carry a bit of weight on him. It was a cute type of chub on his lower belly that was only visible when he stretched. The extra weight made him just a touch warmer and Phil found it oddly comforting.

He tried to ignore the irony that it was now Dan looking over his shoulder when only an hour before he’d yelled at Phil for doing the exact same thing, but Phil was the older brother after all and he would be the first to see the hypocrisy of his younger sibling. He didn’t point it out, though, just stored it in his brain for later in case they fought over something petty again.

“Holy shit,” replied Dan “Half of fucking London? Does this got to do with the lights in the sky?” Phil scrolled through the article, thumbing through the bare bones information. The darkness seemed to make the basement colder and he shivered.

“Yeah, the article thinks so at least. I guess we won’t know for a little,” at this, Phil set down his phone and fully faced his brother. Their noses brushed when he did so and Dan prickled back “I think we should stay down here for the night, what about you?” Dan nodded in response and Phil, once again falling into that leadership role as the eldest, stood up to gather what they needed. As Phil trekked up the stairs, he was surprised to feel Dan’s presence behind him. After going up the first flight, Phil then headed to the upstairs and dodged into his bedroom, gathering up his phone charger, a flashlight, pajama pants, and his green and blue bedspread. Feeling a little paranoid, he also nabbed his small stuffed lion, his favorite childhood possession, and shoved it deep into his pants pocket.

When Phil entered into the hallway, Dan rushed to gather the last of his things, and quickly darted out of his room, falling into step behind Phil. In the dark, Phil allowed himself a small smile. Dan was behaving in the same way he did after watching a scary movie. Hovering, clingy, and mortified by it all, Dan was trying very hard to mask the fact he was on edge without relinquishing his desire to be coddled. It was one of the many endearing traits about his little brother that Phil missed seeing. They never watched scary movies together anymore except on rare occasions.

Phil stopped smiling when he realized that this was because, in a way, they kind of were living in a scary movie at the moment. Then he figured that was silly. It was just as scary as a severe storm. Nothing more.

When the boys made their way back to the basement, Phil shut the door firmly behind them to be safe. Using Phil’s big camping flashlight to see, they began to set up sleeping areas.  Phil decided to forgo the couch, leaving it for his brother, and made a nest of blankets and pillows underneath the stairs. It made a cozy nook, but he knew he would have to be careful not to bump his head in the morning. Without any thanks, Dan took the bed.

“Close your eyes, I’m getting changed,” said Dan, holding up his pair of checked sleeping pants. Usually, both boys only slept in their underwear, so Dan had only really worn the pajama bottoms on Christmas. Phil squinted.

“We’re brothers. I don’t care if you change in front of me,” said Phil. Dan scoffed.

“Yeah well I do. So fuck off and close your eyes,” he snapped. Phil flopped onto his bedding and couldn’t resist a sassy eyeroll.

“Jesus, alright calm down,” he said. With dramatic effect, Phil covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and stuck out his tongue. Dan didn’t crack a smile. Flicking off the torch, he yanked off his jeans and slid into his sleep pants. His shirt smelled like B.O., but he had forgotten to grab another one and there was no way he was going to hang around shirtless. Not in front of anybody and especially not in front of Phil.

Dan turned back on the light.

“You can look now,” he mumbled before retreating to the couch and sinking into his phone.

Phil, on the other hand, changed without abandon. Yanking off his tight jeans, his boxers pulled down a little further, enough to show a peaking of pubic hair at the bottom of his happy trail. He then tugged off his shirt, dropping it to the ground to expose his pasty white chest and flat stomach. Phil didn’t have any muscle tone, but he was skinny, that was for sure. His body hair was a reddish-brown, a slightly more ginger-version of Dan’s hair, which looked a bit odd when contrasted with the bluish-black dyed hair on his head.

Dan’s eyes weren’t on his phone anymore. As Phil pulled on his Christmas pajama bottoms, he smiled warmly. Dan scoffed.

“You’re disgustingly skinny. You look like a skeleton with skin on it. You’ve got mum’s genes, while I got stuck with Dad’s beer gut,” he said. Phil looked down at his body as if noticing it for the first time. His eyes flicked back over to his shirt as he considered pulling it back on.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Phil asked awkwardly “I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on but—”

“God, why do you always worry about my damn feelings all the time. No, I’m literally just insulting you, get it?” said Dan, not withholding any venom from his voice. Phil’s face reddened and now it was his turn to retreat to his bedding. He grabbed his bedspread, tucking it under his arms as he pulled it up to his chest.

The boys sat in silence on their phones before bed. Reports were coming in about the mass outages. Some of the less reputable blogs and hobby-reporters were discussing the idea of the lights “sucking energy” from the city because these mass outages were happening in Seattle and New York as well. More lights had also appeared above Berlin and Cairo. Facebook was a mess—more so than usual—as people began to panic. There had yet to be any countries claiming these attacks and the word “alien” was now being used by the public. Of course, many went straight to religion as well, and the occasional conspiracy theorist was found to be bragging in a thread about being prepared. It made Phil nervous, so he eventually switched over to Tumblr.

Of course, everyone was talking about it on there as well, but queues were a beautiful thing. While scrolling through his feed, Phil saw a few pieces of fanart for a videogame he was a fan of, read a sassy text post about gay pride, and then ended up watching a 20 minute stim slime video from a mental health page he’d originally followed for Dan’s sake.

And, of course, there was weird porn.

Phil had three blogs that he used to categorize his reblogs. There was Amazing-Phil, his fandom blog, Less-Amazing-Phil, his social justice blog, and Body-On-Fire, his porn blog. For quite some time, Phil had been single, and he wasn’t really a “hook up” type of guy, so porn and masturbation were regularly scheduled parts of his daily routine. Most nights, he did it before bed and passed out. In fact, he’d probably masturbated before bed almost every night since moving in back home. The house was too quiet, unlike his former apartments and dorms, so he had trouble sleeping. That night was no exception, and the paranoia about everything else wasn’t helping either.

Phil scrolled upon a particular video that caught his attention. It was a simple, homemade video showing a guy wearing knee highs, a skirt, and some see-through underwear. His skin was white, lightly tanned, and lacking any noticeable body hair. Nothing else was visible other than that and the guy’s tiny cock. Holding a mini vibrator to his clothed dick, the figure in the video squirmed and wiggled lewdly. After only seeing a silent three seconds of the video, Phil felt an uncomfortable tightness in his Christmas pajama pants. He was half hard before he even finished the reblog for later.

Peaking around the bannister, Phil saw that Dan had plugged his phone in and was curled up on his side. The lump of blankets rose and fell slowly. He appeared quite asleep, despite the fact it was only about 11:30 at night.

Carefully, Phil slid his hands into his pants, gripping his cock gently. Luckily, the video had no sound. Phil clicked it and watched as the person on the other end masturbated alongside him. The body of the person was quite feminine, but with a little chub right above the waistline, and he had grown out his fingernails enough to show little crescent moons. Something about the video just hit all of Phil’s buttons. The slow, gentle rubs that chubbed up his cock soon got more frantic. Waves of pleasure rolled through Phil and he had to slow down, edging himself so the orgasm would be satisfying enough to make him pass out. Balancing his phone in his left hand, Phil got lost in the sensation of his hand tightening around his cock, pumping it in tandem to the video, with coils of heat traveling up from his lower stomach and making his heart pound. When the guy in the video came all over his panties, Phil felt himself getting close. Dropping the phone on his chest, Phil tilted his head back, beating rapidly, thinking about how nice it would be to have a guy like that for himself all prettied up, writhing under his touch, cumming all over his pretty little outfit…

“I can’t believe you’re masturbating with me _right here_.”

Phil came all over his hand, spilling hot seed onto his fist, but the feeling was not reveled in. Instead, his blood was running ice cold. _Shit._

He didn’t know how to breathe, much less what to say. Did he deny it? Clearly, Dan had seen it. Did he apologize? Phil’s brain had now switched from one type of frantic thought to another. Pulling his hand away, he rubbed it along the bottom of his bedspread, staining it with cum while also trying not to be too obvious about what he was wiping off. Dan already knew enough, but he didn’t need to know that Phil had cum.

 “Like seriously, I can you hear you fapping away, and it’s disgusting so can you like not for one day you fucking porn addict,” came Dan’s voice from the darkness. Phil just laid there on his back, breathing heavily and not responding.

Making a noise of contempt, Phil heard Dan rolled back over and readjust the blankets. Doing the same (and ignoring the wet spot), Phil fell into a fretful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: panic attacks

Phil awoke to blinding light. And screaming.

At first, he assumed it was a dream, despite the pounding in his heart and head. Once he realized it wasn’t a dream, Phil panicked, stuck in the type of disorientation that made his head spin.

Light light light—but from where? Screaming, ear piercing—Danny.

Without much thought as to what it all meant, Phil leapt from his spot under the stairs, bumping his head on the bannister in the process, and made his way to the couch where he’d last seen Dan. There Phil found him, all wrapped up in the blankets and wide eyed in the false daylight that filled the room. Phil reached for him. Without hesitation, Dan jumped into his arms and clung to his brother just like he used to when they were little. They both looked out the small basement window in shock, terrified and confused.

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck, Phil what the fuck—” babbled Dan. With a shake of his head, Phil gripped his arm and yanked him into the basement closet, the one where their mother stored extra cleaning supplies. Pushing out the mops and brooms unceremoniously while Dan looked at the window wide-eyed, Phil pulled them both in. A second thought popped into his head and quickly, before he lost his nerve, Phil darted into the basement, grabbed his blue and green bedspread, and brought that into the closet as well.

Upon returning to the closet, Phil was met with a desperate, shaky hug. Dan was crying now, not because of anything in particular other than the surge of emotions that the adrenaline brought like a wave before retreating back to calmer seas. Phil still felt only half awake, unsure what was actually happening.

“Dan… Dan what is that? Where is that light coming from?” he asked. Dan was hiccupping at this point, so Phil held him close. Knowing that Dan was in a state of shock, Phil couldn’t help but take a bit advantage of the situation and buried his nose into Daniel’s sweaty curls. He smelled familiar, like home.

When he calmed down enough to talk, Dan immediately pulled away and found his way to the other side of the small closet, his back pressed against the plaster. He rubbed his eyes, focusing on the crack of light underneath the door. He sniffled.

“I was awake, keeping an eye on updates on Twitter when out of nowhere there was this loud metallic noise and then—then those fucking floodlights filled the room like it was a football stadium or some shit. I don’t know what it is, but it’s unnatural and it’s close. Phil, holy shit, what’s going on?” Dan’s hands were still shaking and he tried to hide it by pushing them behind him and sitting against the wall. He slid to the floor, still looking at the crack in the door. Phil was silent. He heard the sharp, metallic sound the emanated from large light fixtures—exactly like football stadium lights humming into the night silently. He too slid on the floor, pulling the blanket up to his knees.

“I… I don’t know. L-let’s check online,” Phil sputtered.

This couldn’t be aliens. It was the government or the sun flare was getting worse or--

What sounded like a garbage truck driving by accompanied the moving of the lights. Dan, pulled back into panic mode completely, glued himself to Phil’s side, clinging to him and squeezing his eyes shut against his older brother’s shoulder. The noise was loud, filling up the entire basement, and the light peaking in from under the door dimmed, moved, then reappeared. With childlike fear, Phil pulled the blanket over his and Dan’s head, holding onto his younger sibling with equal tightness. They stayed like this until silence filled the basement again apart from the present yet subtle humming of the lights.

They didn’t breathe for a few moments, until Dan yanked the blanket off their heads and pulled away from Phil. He grappled his phone from the floor and slid open the lock screen—although he did have to enter the password a few times because of his quaking hands. It was stuffy in the closet so with hesitation, Phil peeled the blanket away from his bare chest, still breathing heavy. He watched the crack under the door as Dan began typing in keywords into Google. When Dan gasped, Phil felt his stomach clench.

“What?” asked Phil. Dan didn’t answer, he only sat there in frustrating silence while scrolling through a news article. This time, with more panicked sharpness, Phil said “Dan, _what is it_? Tell me!” Dan looked up, blinking back tears.

“It’s—It’s the lights. They-they they’re attached to… ships. Like, the US government is saying that these—these lights are attached to these invisible ships and they’re now moving through the cities and shining floodlights into people’s houses and-and then people come out of those ships and—” at this point, Dan started to hyperventilate, dropping the phone to the ground and grabbing onto his hair. Tear drops fell off the tip of his nose as he began to cry in earnest, his chest heaving with a panic attack. Dan shook like a leaf, thoughts running through his mind about his heart stopping.  

Phil had only helped Dan through a panic attack a few times, so he sat there for a moment, unsure what to do. The only two other times he’d helped his little brother come down from a panic attack were after the incident with their father, and when, driving home from a therapy appointment, Phil hit a patch of ice that sent the car spinning down the street. Both they and the car had been fine, luckily, but Dan started to hyperventilate the moment they stopped moving and wouldn’t calm down until Phil began to talk him down. It was another one of those moments neither of them ever talked about.

Despite the fact he was dying to pick up the phone and read for himself what was going on, Phil crawled over to Dan, taking both of his wrists gently and pulling them away from his face.

“Dan, you’re having a panic attack. You need to calm down before we do anything else. I need you to focus on breathing normally, okay? Um, can you breathe with me?” asked Phil. Dan nodded slightly, but tears still fell from his eyes as he heaved sharp breaths loudly. Letting go of his wrists, Phil reached over and put a hand on his own chest, then on Dan’s. After the car incident, he'd read a little online how to help someone with a panic attack. There wasn’t an exact science on the matter, but sometimes people liked to be touched but not constricted. Dan flinched under Phil’s hand, but didn’t move away fully. Phil took a long, deep breath in.

“Try breathing like that with me, Danny,” said Phil, using his childhood nickname. This got Dan’s attention, and he looked up with a tear stained face. Phil breathed in slowly and when Dan tried to copy him, his chest shuddered. Phil shook his head.

“Keep trying. You need to breath in,” Phil demonstrated “And out.” Phil let out a long exhale, and Dan managed to emulate him without shaking so much. They took one more breath together, and then Phil dropped his hand.

Still sniffling, Dan curled up in the corner, pulling Phil’s blanket up to his chin. He was still shaking, but the hyperventilating stopped. Phil grabbed Dan’s phone to read the report. It was from the BBC and read:

_4 November, 2018_

_LONDON—More than 4000 reports of strange activity by an unidentified object have been received by the Ministry of Defense over the past six hours in primarily London and surrounding areas. The same phenomena has been identified in over 20 cities worldwide with similar events. The US Department of Defense has confirmed that these attacks are from a non-terrestrial entity.  We have a full breakdown of the situation as well as current information on how to stay safe the in our recap section below:_

_CURRENT WARNINGS AND ADVISORIES_

_Civil Authorities have issued a shelter-in-place warning: The City of London Police Department received several conflicting reports at approximately 7:45PM that there were various unidentified lights hovering above the city. At 2:15 AM, it has been confirmed that these lights are moving and shining into homes. People have been seen exiting what appears to be transparent objects above the lights. These people, who are of unknown origin, are armed and dangerous and are estimated to have killed at least 10 civilians at the time of this report. It is an official warning that these aircraft and people are considered hostile. Citizens are advised to stay indoors. If not indoors, it is advised to find a shelter or hiding spot in which one is not clearly visible. Citizens are also advised to move to their basement or interior rooms at this time with all doors and windows locked. Noise should be kept to a minimum and radios should be listened to at the lowest possible setting for updates. Please standby for further instruction._

_Thursday 11:30 PM-- While the current body count is uncertain, reports are coming in that adults appearing within the age range of 20 to 50 have been exiting what seems to be transparent aircraft ready to attack any citizens upon contact. Some reports have come in that these attackers have looked like or have been known neighbors and friends, so many civil authorities are warning citizens to not allow anyone into their homes at this time._

_Friday 1:30 AM-- Reports from the United States have confirmed that these aircraft and attacks are not of terrestrial origin. The Department of Defense has released a statement world wide announcing that this is indeed an attack from an entity foreign to our planet. Contact has yet to be made with these entities to evaluate their intentions, but due to the attacks being linked to these crafts, they are assumed to be hostile._

_Friday 2:09AM—Reports are coming in the unidentified aircraft are moving about London shining lights into homes. Civil authorities have released further statements on proper precautions. The intentions of this movement are unknown. It is unclear whether the same lights in different cities globally are taking the same actions as multiple power failures have made communication difficult globally._

The last update had been 20 minutes prior, as it was now 2:29. Phil fell back against the wall in shock, mouth agape. So it was confirmed—these really were aliens.

Aliens coming to Earth—particularly attacking the planet like some cheesy sci-fi film—was a bit hard for Phil to process. Obviously, this was _technically_ within the realm of possibility, but it just seemed so excessively outlandish that Phil felt certain this was all a mistake, delusion, or dream. Dan, on the other hand, was very much accepting of this new reality to the point of fear. He was cocooned in the corner sweating all over Phil’s bedspread, his eyes glazing over a bit as he began to disassociate after the panic attack. Feeling he had to focus on what was real, Phil scooted over to him in the small space then tucked himself under the blankets as well.

They hadn’t touched each other in at least a year, likely more, but when Dan curled up against Phil’s side, Phil felt nothing but comfort and familiarity. Phil had only had a few boyfriends, none of which had been particularly affectionate, and Dan had yet to even go on a date. Their parents had certainly never given them much affection. Friends were affectionate with Phil on occasion, but no one really wanted to platonically cuddle, obviously. Before they grew apart, Dan had been Phil’s main source of physical affection.

Nights upon nights were spent under blanket forts watching VHS tapes and snuggling. Once the elementary school let out, Dan would plop beside Phil on the couch, swinging his legs over his older brother’s. Camping trips with friends meant sleeping bags pushed together. Tickle fights. More practical touching, like Phil holding Dan’s midsection as he taught him to swim at the local public pool, and Dan’s hands brushing the back of his neck as he helped Phil dye the back part of his hair. Silly little kicks under the dinner table. A hand held to cross the street. An arm to hide under during a scary movie or haunted hayrack ride.

When the affection stopped, Phil began to feel touch starved, but hadn’t been able to identify that feeling until adulthood. He didn’t think Dan would ever want to be affectionate again because not only were they adults now, but Dan hated him. Of all things, it had taken aliens attacking the earth to forced Dan into showing his brother affection again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My roommate has begun reading my fanfic and I c a n t. 
> 
> Also I'm not being super subtle in my slow burn incest. Whoops.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: death and some mental health talk

“Dan, the report says a ‘shelter in place warning.’ There is no way I’m letting you leave this house, are you crazy?” asked Phil.

It was about 4AM and the two had silently cuddled for about an hour before Dan finally pulled away. Sharing Phil’s bedspread and Dan’s phone, the brothers had kept their eyes on local news websites, the BBC, and Twitter before finally settling apart, drifting in and out of sleep. There had not been anymore lights or noises—in fact, the house was eerily quiet. Phil had been nodding off to sleep again against the closet wall when out of nowhere Dan had said “We need to go find Dad.”

Phil had responded accordingly, of course.

“That warning is from two hours ago. We need to get out of the city anyway. I’ve seen enough scary movies to know that,” replied Dan. Looking back down at his phone, he refreshed a few pages, trying to see the latest news on the aliens. The body count had skyrocketed from 10 to 500 in London alone. Most countries had given few updates about the situation due to massive power failures still occurring (and getting worse) globally, but the US had reported capturing a few of the body-snatcher types around 3:30. No other news had come out since then.

“Okay, but not yet. Things are still crazy out there,” said Phil. Then he added, tentatively “And why are you worried about Dad?” Dan was silent a moment and refreshed the pages on his phone again without looking at them to avoid answering the question. Finally, he responded.

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to not be a total dick to our father,” he replied. There was a venom in his voice that Phil recognized, an accusation. Simple answers always turned into accusations with his little brother. Phil usually let it slide, but he was tired both mentally and physically. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall, Phil sighed in irritation.

“Fuck off. He doesn’t need our help,” he said simply. It wasn’t like him to cuss, but exhaustion usually brought down some of his politeness and patience. Locking his phone, Dan glared at Phil in the dim light of the closet. A tense silence. Phil peeked open an eye.

“What?” he said. Dan scoffed in disgust.

“You don’t care what happens to him at all, do you?” he asked. Both of Phil’s eyes were open now, and he felt a nervous prickle run over his skin. He did not want to be having this conversation with everything else going on. Not with Dan in their basement closet at 5AM. Possibly, not ever.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon that Dan, as the youngest, still clung to the hope that their parents would, eventually, show any sign of love, but Phil had hoped that maybe therapy would help Dan process that it was likely never going to happen. It was a sad fact, but one that Phil had come to accept with (mostly) grace in his age. He wasn’t sure if he would call it emotional abuse, but it was shitty nonetheless, and truthfully Phil couldn’t care less where his parents had been during the alien attack. It was the last thing on his mind.

While Phil certainly held resentment for their father, he also didn’t actively hate or wish harm on his parents either. Dan, on the other hand, oscillated between outward hate for them, and a desperate neediness for love. Phil had just cut them off emotionally and lived comfortably with that fact. Of course, he didn’t want to tell Dan that, but Dan would be able to tell if he lied.

“I… I don’t think we should leave the house,” Phil settled on. His answer, like Dan’s question, was loaded. It was both a non- answer and an answer. Likewise, Dan still pushed forward, picking at the issue like a scab.

“What if he’s hurt?” asked Dan, his voice low. Phil didn’t answer, he just looked down at the bedspread between them. After another tense glare, Dan stood.

“Well, I’m leaving this closet, at least,” he said. Phil stood hastily, nearly knocking his head against the upper shelf that held the family’s few dusty board games. He grabbed onto Dan’s arm, and Dan didn’t have enough room to yank away.

“No!” said Phil “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? We haven’t heard anything for hours. I’m not going to ‘leave-leave.’ I just want some air—and space,” griped Dan. Pushing open the door, he finally yanked his arm away and stalked off into the basement. Still too nervous to breach the stairs, Dan crossed the basement to his discarded bedding and flopped down on the couch. He texted on his phone now, messaging some of his friends online about their safety overseas. For a moment, Phil hesitated in the threshold of the closet, then finally followed his brother into the basement.

            Instead of returning to his own makeshift bed, he sat beside Dan, their arms touching. Dan pulled away, immediately, there closeness in the closet all but forgotten.

* * *

 

            Dan fell asleep on the couch first, right as the sunrise was beginning to peak through the small windows. Afraid that his brother would wake him up with a scream again, Phil quietly and hastily pulled his bedding from under the stairs to right next to the couch. He looked over at his sleeping brother on the couch. Dan looked younger in his sleep. Softer. The tightness in his jaw and the ever constant glowering was gone, replaced with a vulnerability and a sweetness. It reminded Phil of their childhood and filled him with a longing to just reach out and hold him. Laying down on the floor facing Dan, Phil watched him sleep for a few moments.

            The desire to snuggle again was overwhelming. After their clinging in the closet, Phil couldn’t help but feel extra touch-starved that night. It was an appetizer with no full meal. Still, Phil knew that if he tried to sidle up to Dan on the couch he’d get yelled at or, even worse, kicked or hit. That was when Phil noticed Dan’s hand flopped out off the side of the couch, his knuckles brushing the floor of the basement.

            Impulsively, Phil reached out and grabbed onto Dan’s fingers. Dan stirred in his sleep and Phil let go. Feeling stupid, Phil reached around and squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep.

* * *

 

            Phil woke up to Dan shaking him back and forth, quite violently if he were honest. Squinting in the midday light, Phil glanced up to find Dan with his hair wet from the shower and eyes practically bulging from his head.

            “Phillip Michael Howell, wake the fuck up,” growled Dan tensely. Near the nape of his neck his black and white striped shirt was wet as if he had pulled it on hastily. The ends of his curly brown hair dripped water onto Phil’s cheekbones and nose.  

            “What’s going on?” asked Phil in a daze. That’s when he heard it—a knock at their front door. The look on Dan’s face said it all. Standing up and stretching idly, Phil brushed past Dan who whispered “what are you doing?” and “what if it’s _them_?” in panic.

            “I don’t know if a body snatcher would know to knock, Dan,” replied Phil simply as he began to head up the stairs. Dan trailed him, looking over to their front door and back at Phil.

            “They mastered space travel, you absolute idiot,” Dan said, louder now that Phil had spoken at full volume “And you don’t think they could figure out the custom of _knocking_?”

            Phil ignored Dan and looked into the peephole. Of course, Phil wasn’t a total idiot-- he knew there was a possibility of body snatchers-- but he also knew that their neighborhood was relatively quiet. He figured it was important to check because for all they knew it could be their father. If a body snatcher alien really wanted them, would he really knock?

            Beyond the peephole stood a police officer. He was unarmed and on the street outside their house was a squad car, where another police officer sat inside on the radio. It was overall much too elaborate to be aliens who just wanted to stab the brothers, particularly since it would be far easier to bust a window in and grab them. Or pose as a family member. Or a neighbor. Still, erring on the side of caution, Phil turned to Dan.

            “It’s a police officer. Just in case, go upstairs and grab the baseball bat in my closet. Stay in their until I say you can come out, okay?” commanded Phil.

            For a moment, Dan’s cheeks puffed up in indignation and he pursed his lips as if about to argue back. To Phil’s surprise, though, Dan just blushed, nodded, and scurried up the stairs. Phil shook his head. If his brother was scared enough that he wasn’t acting as bratty as usual, maybe there was something to be worried about. Another knock snapped Phil out of his thoughts and he shook his head, feeling silly. Despite the invasion that was going on, Phil didn’t see a reason to be scared yet. Earlier the light thing had been spooky; but so were earthquakes and tornado warnings and people (not in London, notably) experienced those several times a year in some places. In Phil’s mind, this was just a slightly more extreme version of that.

            He still grabbed a kitchen knife and tucked it in his waistband before answering the door.

            The police officer frowned when he answered.

            “Hi there, is this the Howell residence?” asked the officer. Phil’s stomach turned. He expected this was just a routine warning about how to stay safe, not something specific to his family. He nodded, mouth feeling dry.

            “Are you—”

            “Phillip Howell. I’m the eldest son in the household. My dad’s out and my mum’s on vacation. Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Phil. He felt silly, explaining himself as the “eldest son,” particularly since he was in his twenties, but the officer just nodded, carefully almost.

            “Right. Well… Okay, I’m really sorry to be telling you this, but your father, John Michael Howell, passed away this morning. I’m really sorry,” the officer repeated himself, his face showing genuine remorse. A part of Phil’s mind wondered if the police officer actually felt bad, or he just felt bad that he was forced to relay the news.

            “Oh well… Um, how did he die?” asked Phil awkwardly. He winced at the word “die.” It just seemed so blunt and his tone sounded so strange. Phil eyed the officer carefully, wondering if he thought poorly of him for sounding so…. Uncaring…

            “The attacks,” here, the officer shook his head, seeming very dramatic and cinematic about the whole thing “Your father was stabbed by one of the… foreign entities… outside a bar last night. We recovered his body and wallet and he is currently at Taylor’s morgue on 12th street. But I am sorry to report that right now arrangements can’t immediately be made with everything going on. My partner and I are actually the only ones going around telling families at the moment because we aren’t on shift and we’re the only ones who don’t have families. We thought people deserved to know that their loved ones were dead. I’m really sorry,” the officer said again. He kept eyeing Phil like he would pass out or burst into tears, but Phil hated that he didn’t feel like either. He didn’t even feel tired. He just felt…nothing.

            Well, that wasn’t true. Phil felt anxiety boiling away at his stomach.

            How the hell would he explain this to Dan?

* * *

 

            “Dan… Dan are you okay?” Phil’s voice pitched up. Running a hand through his jet black hair, he scooted a little closer to Dan, their knees almost touching. Dan was sitting on the floor of Phil’s bedroom texting away when Phil came in to tell the news. Now, Dan was sitting just as he was, unmoving, phone abandoned beside him. He didn’t do anything for a long while. He just stared at the ground.

            When he finally looked up, Phil felt both relief and more worry as he saw his brother’s eyes glisten with tears.

            “I’m fine,” said Dan. Phil reached out to hug him, but Dan stood up suddenly and rushed out the door, leaving his phone behind. Phil heard a door slam down the hallway and winced. Knowing that there was no use, he simply took Dan’s phone and placed it on his desk for safekeeping. Phil went to his bed and laid down atop the bedspread, willing himself to feel something, _anything_ about his father’s death, but all he felt was worry for Dan. Phil was beginning to think he was some kind of sociopath when he felt his cheeks—warm and wet with tears he hadn’t even noticed he was crying. Wiping them away, Phil stood up. He needed to feel useful, to feel like he was helping Dan cope before any unwanted emotions crept up on him.

            After a moment, he found himself at his desk, having paced over to the other side of the room in a dreamlike beeline. Unable to do anything else, Phil grabbed his brother’s phone and plugged it in to let it charge. Phil then proceeded to head downstairs and began work at baking a plate of cookies using the type of dough that squeezed out of tube that he always made sure to keep on hand. When the cookies were done, Phil cleaned the entire kitchen, rechecked the deadbolt on the front door, and double checked the news for alien updates.

            Left without anything else to do, Phil headed upstairs with a plate of cookies. Hesitantly, he knocked on Dan’s door. To his surprise, the voice inside softly said “Come in.”

            Dan was on his bed, phone back in hand. He looked up at Phil’s arrival. The look had a forced casualness to it and contrasted greatly with his ruddy cheeks that still had faint track marks from crying.

            “Thanks for charging my phone,” said Dan in a softer tone than Phil had heard in years. Phil nodded.

            “You’re welcome,” he said awkwardly. There was a pause before he stated “I made cookies.” There was silence when Phil placed the plate down. Dan sniffed and met his eyes again. Brown bore into blue with certain anger.

            “What, are those ‘sorry our dad died’ cookies?” said Dan, the softness gone from his voice and replaced with the familiar anger. To his rational side’s dismay, Phil felt a prickle of irritation.

            “Jesus, Dan,” he muttered, already exhausted with the conversation before it had begun. Dan looked down at his phone, but unbeknownst to Phil he was simply mindlessly scrolling to avoid eye contact.

            “I don’t want your pity cookies,” replied Dan “Don’t pretend you give a shit about any of this.”

            “I give a shit about _you_ ,” answered Phil immediately “What about that do you not understand?” It wasn’t the first time, over the years, that Phil voiced his rejected brotherly love for Dan. Dan, as usual, completely glossed over it.

            “I’m not the one who died. Our father did and you don’t even care,” snarled Dan.

            “Who said I didn’t care?” replied Phil. At this, Dan tossed his phone aside and crossed his arms. Phil’s previous concern was washed away upon seeing the look on Dan’s face. As was typically the case, he was being utterly petulant and self-righteous. It gave Phil the impulse to smack his little brother.

            “I’m not stupid, Phil, I can tell,” replied. Dan. Phil couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He walked out into the hallway, ready to abandon the conversation, but then turned around suddenly and stalked back through the doorway. Dan finally stood up from his princessy position on the bed.

            “Are we really having this conversation _now_ , Daniel?” replied Phil, his voice raising without his thought.

            “I just don’t understand how you’re all Mr. Happy Go Lucky yet, for some fucking reason, you hate our parents,” Dan frowned “Or should I say parent?” His voice cracked a little, giving way to the torrent of emotions bubbling under the surface for just a moment before being quickly amended by a glare. It showed Phil that Dan, in his usual fashion, was just lashing out emotionally. That didn’t make the situation any less frustrating and after the insane night they’d had, Phil couldn’t help but get swept into the tidal wave of emotions as well.

            “You have this perception that my life is all sunshine and rainbows. Like our parents didn’t react poorly to my coming out either,” Phil softened his tone a bit “My question is how you don’t hate them after what Dad did to you.”

            “Fuck off.”

            “I’m serious. It makes me mad. It should make you mad,” said Phil. Dan looked down at the floor, suddenly deflated.

            “You’re not my goddamn therapist. Why don’t you just fuck off to your room as usual?”

            At this, Phil let out a dry laugh. It caught Dan off guard and his eyes widened as his anger dissipated to anxiety.

            “That’s rich coming from _you_ , of all people,” replied Phil “After everything I do to try and fix this—”

            “Oh, what, fix me?” Dan yelled, anger flashing like lightening. His fists balled up as he said this, taking a step towards his older brother. Phil stepped back, holding up his hands even though he didn’t think Dan would ever try to hit him.

            “Newsflash, even my therapist can’t do that, Philly.”

            “No, that’s not what I meant and you’re purposefully misunderstanding me,” Phil pinched the bridge of his nose “I mean this, _us_.”

            “There is no ‘us,’” retorted Dan, fingering quoting the air.

            “Exactly!” yelled Phil. It was loud enough and surprising enough that silence filled the air between them. Their eyes met sheepishly before Phil darted off into the other room.

            Dan collapsed on his bed and cried for another hour, quietly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, all I wanted to do was write filthy incest smut, but now I'm balls deep in backstory and angst. Hngggg.


	6. Chapter 6

They hadn’t spoken for three days. Not a single word.

            Phil hadn’t been surprised when, later that first night after the fight, upon entering Dan’s room and asking what he wanted for dinner, Phil was met with silence. It wasn’t the first time Dan had given Phil the silent treatment. Usually, it was over something more petty than their father’s death, but Phil knew it was just one of Dan’s terrible coping mechanisms. Despite this knowledge, it still completely sucked. Phil went downstairs, made up an easy noodle dish with vegetables, and left a plate outside Dan’s room. The next morning, the plate of food was still in the hallway, untouched. Phil cleaned it up.

            Updates about the alien situation came in bursts. The various military branches of the nations had been deployed, but according to news sources, finding the aliens was difficult since they looked like regular people. The only easily identifiable difference was that some of the people had odd, wide faces, as if the skin of the face was not enough to compensate for whatever was within the person. Some scientists had gotten ahold of the body snatcher’s corpses, but there were some rumors that used the word “dissolve” to describe the creatures post-mortum, so at that time no one knew what lied beneath the skin of the fake humans. On the political side, countries allied together to face the assault. Some big militaries from the states had shot at the ships, but some type of invisible field was proving that to be difficult, just like a scary movie. The body snatchers were easier to deal with as militaries entered into major cities and began to shoot the look-alikes as soon as they were sure of their origin. Since they typically tried to attack whomever got in their way, it was usually easy to figure it out.  To the best of anyone’s knowledge, no civilians had been shot by military officials, but that was only because governments were violently warning their citizens to stay indoors. As a result, Phil took it upon himself to trail up the stairs and read the current shelter-in-place warning aloud outside Dan’s bedroom door just in case his little brother wasn’t getting the picture. The door was locked, but he knew Dan was inside because he kept hearing occasional bursts of music or the feet in the hallway headed to the bathroom at strategic times when Phil was clearly downstairs.

            Everything about the news reports just felt too surreal to Phil. It was like reading about a bad B rated alien flick. He decided to bide his time. Eventually, the alien thing would be taken care of and would blow over as another tumultuous time in history that Phil would be able to tell his children about. Eventually, Dan would start talking to him again.  

            The power was coming on and off occasionally. The evening after their fight, to Phil’s relief the lights were back on. Since he was the only one caring for the house, he made sure to recheck everything in the fridge and began keeping stock of their groceries. The pantry was quite full with nonperishables after their mother had gone through a couponing stage, but Phil knew that it would probably be wise to head to the store to stock up once the shelter-in-place warning was lifted. It made Phil nervous that he didn’t know when that would be and that the police station was not answering his calls.

After their father’s death, Phil tried calling his mother, but it went straight to voicemail. Phil hated that he didn’t care, nor did he try to call her again after that.

            The next morning, the power went off for a while and Phil fluttered about the kitchen in worry. He unloaded the ice tray into plastic bags, put them in a cooler, and added some of their most perishable food to the cooler. For breakfast he made himself some more pasta because it meant he could keep the fridge shut. Despite the fact he knew it would go untouched, Phil left a plate of spaghetti outside Dan’s room that morning. It irritated him to no end that the food was going to waste when Phil didn’t know how long they would have to survive off what they had.

            That was typical Dan—a selfish brat. Phil tried not to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. The whole silent treatment was getting to him.

            On the third day, it was chillier outside and Phil worried less about the food when the power came back on for a few hours then immediately died in the middle of Phil playing a round of Mario Kart. He headed upstairs to go read a book when he heard a noise outside.

            Curiously, Phil headed into his room and pushed back the curtain to peek outside. In the streets stood a woman that Phil had seen before—she had stringy blonde hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks, but Phil could still make out that she was a worker from the local gas station. He remembered her because she tried flirting every time Phil came in, despite the lack of reciprocation she got. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty. She walked calmly down the street and Phil felt the compulsion to push open the window and remind her of the shelter-in-place warning. That’s when he noticed in her hand was a large axe, the kind Phil had seen in movies about firefighters, the kind used to break down doors. She pulled the axe loudly behind her and it scraped against the pavement outside their home. Across the street, the curtain of their neighbor’s upstairs window pulled back, revealing a pair of worried faces. Upon closer examination of the girl in the street, Phil could see that the woman’s face was simply “off.” There was a larger gap between her eyes than usual.

            Phil’s blood ran icy when he realized she had to be an alien.

            Letting the curtain drop instantly, Phil grabbed the baseball bat from his room in shaky hands and raced down the stairs to double check the lock. He looked through the peephole, but could no longer see the girl despite the fact he could still hear the axe on the pavement. Stumbling back up the stairs, Phil hesitated outside Dan’s door. He needed to tell his little brother what was going on as much as he needed to be near him, but then Phil would have to knock and make noise and possible alert the creature to his presence.

            “Dan,” whispered Phil, his voice hoarse and shaky “Dan I know we’re fighting but something really bad is happening and you need to let me—”

            The door opened and Dan pulled him inside, yanking Phil by the arm of his sweater. He shut the door, did the lock, and shook with fear.

So Dan had seen it too.

            They didn’t say a word. They simply took turns trying to peek out Dan’s window without moving the black out curtains. The girl was pacing the block, methodically moving up and down with the axe dragging behind her. Both of the boys shook with fear, eyes wide with anxiety. Carefully placing the baseball bat on the ground, Phil slid against the side wall and sat on the floor. His turned his head to keep an eye on the curtain while Dan stood watch through the gap.

            It lasted for two hours until the creature finally got bored and left. Two tense hours. Phil’s shoulders ached from the physical toll of his anxiety. Dan was the first to speak.

            “I think it’s gone,” he said softly.

            “Holy shit,” replied Phil. He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Dan sat down beside him.

            “Yeah I—”

            Right as he was speaking, the power went out, effectively cutting Dan off. The room was plunged into darkness between the black out curtains and the fact the sun had set an hour prior. The boys sat in shocked silence for a moment. Once his eyes adjusted, Phil begrudgingly stood up.

            “I’m going to bed,” he sighed. Dan stayed sat on the floor and didn’t respond. The air of the fight had returned now that the tenseness of the day had left, but exhaustion with the whole situation outweighed anything else Phil felt. He left his brother sitting on the floor, picking quietly at the nubby carpet, and disappeared into his room.

* * *

 

            Dan crawled into Phil’s bed around midnight, more or less. The digital clock next to Phil’s bed was still wonky from the power turning on and off, so it was unclear, but the dawn had not touched the sky yet so it couldn’t have been any later than 2. Phil had awoken as soon as the door opened, but he saw the outline of Dan’s curly hair in the light of the hallway and shut his eyes again.

            It was late. If Dan wanted to deal with their relationship issues, it could wait. If there was something going on with the aliens, he would wake up Phil soon enough. If he was an alien and had, somehow, been body snatched, Phil wouldn’t care if Dan killed him anyway. He wouldn’t want to be dealing with this mess without his brother anyway.

            So Phil relented to the tug and pull of sleep, only breaking from it, momentarily, so he could scoot over to make room for Dan. Dan hadn’t breathed a word. Some distant part of Phil’s brain that was currently lost in a maze of dreams, sleep haze, and jumbled thoughts knew that Dan coming to his room meant something. What that something was would not be clear until Phil’s sleep-addled mind could escape from the delicious pull of slumber. Even then, it still wouldn’t likely be clear. Nothing with Dan was ever clear for Phil.

            Phil had his back to Dan and had no intentions of turning around. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, though, Dan tucked himself in a small ball (well, as small as he could get with such a lanky frame) and nuzzle his nose in between Phil’s shoulder blades. A bare foot wrapped around Phil’s socked ankle ,which in Dan’s mind was akin to the way seahorses wrapped their tails together when drifting apart or mating. Dan had always said wearing socks to bed was weird, but Phil loved his sock collection and liked how warm they kept him.

            Once Dan was sure Phil had fallen back into his deep sleep, he boldly and deliberately wrapped an arm around his older brother’s waist. He breathed in his scent and shut his eyes.

            Dan didn’t know why he did any of this. He knew a dream about Phil with eyes too far apart had woken him up in a cold sweat. He knew his mental health medication hadn’t helped him calm down. He knew that he ached to be held but feared it as well. Then without accord, his feet led him down the hall (quickly through the shadows, of course) to Phil’s room. The touching, though, that was unexplainable. Or maybe it did have an explanation, but it was the kind that Dan didn’t want to think about.

            His therapist liked to bring it up sometimes, but he refused to speak about it other than the first time he had mentioned it in a frenzied panic.

            Dan didn’t like to think about his romantic feelings for his brother. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually I'll update my other fic, this one has just been calling to me. Please drop a comment below if you like it, it really helps encourage me to write. Sorry for the short update.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the lovely commentors on the last chapter. My life's been crazy lately, but y'all really inspired me to write. Also, guess who saw ii in Rosemont last week? I have ascended. It was awesome guys. 
> 
> Anyway enjoy my angsty incest story. Expect it to get filthy and terrible soon.

Phil was getting whiplash.

            A pattern had emerged for the week following their father’s death. In the daytime, no glimpse or suggestion of Dan. Phil’s days were spent cataloging their food supply (he’d read about it in a YA post-apocalyptic novel once), putting boards up over the windows (another idea from the YA novel: boards were from a deconstructed table in the basement they never used), setting little traps for safety (like nails on the windowsill), and preparing two meals a day (using up the perishables first, he figured). In his spare time, Phil had left aside any noisy activities and caught up instead on his reading. He kept updated on the news. More causalities. Less progress on figuring out who or what the creatures were. More shelter-in-place warnings.

            A few fringe blogs explored the possibility of what type of people were being body snatched. Some religious folk believed it was the damned, but most figured it was the remains of the people captured by the aliens themselves. This meant there were some kind of physical entities taking over these bodies, even if scientists had yet to decipher what these entities looked like. A picture floated around Twitter of some tree-branch look spindles coming out of a human hand that was supposedly the skeleton of a body snatcher. It only took a day for someone to reverse image search it and find out it was an art project from a Toronto college exhibit in 2006.

            Phil tried talking to Dan. He tried to get him to emerge from his cave, but to no avail. Sometimes, Phil just sat outside the bedroom, waiting to catch Dan as he left for the bathroom. No luck. Phil worried his brother wasn’t drinking enough water or having enough to eat. Sometimes, the breakfast plates disappeared, but not always or often enough. Phil started saving leftovers in the cooler.

            No, Dan instead decided that the only contact he wanted with his older sibling was at night. After the first night, which Phil had thought was a dream, Dan managed to make another appearance by crawling into Phil’s bed again. This time, Phil rustled from his sleep.

            “Dan?” he asked sleepily. Eyes wide, Dan looked almost comedic staring up at him, halfway under the sheets, like a child caught sneaking about. Panic fluttered over his features, making Phil’s stomach clenched as he began to spiral into paranoia about noises outside, the girl with the axe. But the panic died away like the popping of a spark over a campfire; momentary, but not unimaginable with the fire beneath.

            “I can go,” said Dan. It wasn’t conceding. It was a threat.

            “No, it’s f—you’re fine. You just surprised, you just surprised me is all,” Phil stuttered. Dan nodded, pulling the covers up to his chin, and flipped over so he wasn’t facing Phil. Still confused, Phil sunk back into his warm sheets, which were now warmer with his new bedmate. A few minutes passed and Phil purposefully slowed his breathing. He wanted to see what Dan would do next. Was he going to punish him or something? Pull a prank? Or did he simply want to share a bed again? None of those options seemed in character with Phil’s brother.

            Once Dan was convinced Phil was asleep, he reached out to him. Phil steadied his breathing when he felt a hand snake not only around his waist, but under the hem of his hoodie. Dan’s breath hitched as his fingertips graced the peak of Phil’s soft stomach. The hand recoiled and Phil could actually hear Dan taking a bunch of calming breathes. Soon, the hand returned, only this time, it was over Phil’s hoodie and not gracing the skin of his stomach. Dan buried his head between Phil’s shoulder blades, inhaled, and fell to sleep not long after.

            Each night brought a different kind of touching, during which Phil always kept up the act of sleeping. It was never anything overly invasive or perverted. It was nothing that Phil wouldn’t have welcomed awake either, and he wondered if Dan knew that but was unsure how to even begin breaching the topic while still receiving the silent treatment. One night, Dan tentatively planted a kiss on Phil’s shoulder. The next, a brushing of toes against the back of Phil’s calf.  A snuggle into the nape of his neck. An intertwining of fingers that was then thought better of and instead turned to finger pads brushing against finger pads. Some nights, when he reached for him, Dan was shaking or crying. Others he was quiet, breathing soft, and tumbled right to sleep immediately after making whatever premeditated move it was that night.

            Dan was always gone by morning. Hence Phil’s emotional whiplash.

* * *

 

            The power was becoming less and less frequent now and Phil was beginning to worry about their food. They were not even close to running out, but Phil knew that if they were going to stay in the house for a long haul, they would need more canned goods, medicine, and bottled water. Even though daily he reminded Dan of the shelter-in-place warning, begging his little brother not to escape through the window just in case Dan was having one of his impulsive streaks, Phil was beginning to think he may have to go out there to get supplies before it was too late or things were too overrun. He had been listening to the radio at night that he dug up from the basement for updates. It was the same old stuff—STAY INDOORS. There had been one news coverage by BBC that hinted at safe towns soon, but not until after the armed forces of the world had tried all they could. Phil hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The fringe blogs were suggesting Londoners take a weapon and hit the super market. Phil couldn’t help but trust them because what other choice did he have?

            It was a full week after the silent treatment. A Tuesday. Phil risked a knock on Dan’s door after picking up the ignored plate of pancakes that he had left outside that morning.

            “Dan… I, um, I think I’m going to take the baseball bat and go out for supplies. We need to make sure we have enough food to last us… a while. Anyway, I wanted to tell you to lock up when I leave and hide in your closet with the kitchen knife if you hear anything. The cell towers are down, so I don’t want you leaving under any circumstances, okay? Dan, are you there?” Phil called into the door. He heard a shuffling, then the lock switching, and then there stood Daniel, dressed in all black as usual, dark rings under his eyes, hair messy. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed even though it was almost four in the afternoon.

            “I’m coming with you,” said Dan. Phil blinked in surprise. A bunch of emotions were running through him that he couldn’t explain. The one that made the most sense and ended up surfacing was irritation, because typically older brother’s felt irritation about their younger siblings, not crippling concern, neediness, and a desire to be held.

            “No, Dan, it’s fine. I can handle this on my own,” said Phil. He held the plate of cold pancakes out and Dan stupidly looked down at them before glancing back up at Phil.

            “We’ll be able to get more if I go,” said Dan simply. Phil shook his head.

            “I only have so much money,” he replied. Dan snickered. It was snobbish, self-righteous.

            “You think the stores are actually open and accepting currency?” Dan snarked. Phil didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply shook his head in disgust and stalked off toward the kitchen. Dan followed, now acting like he dressed—a shadow.

            “Funny, this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in a week and what should I have expected other than you being difficult,” grumbled Phil. Mentally, he was already kicking himself. It wasn’t like Phil to pick the fight, but his past confusion over the week mixed with the dire circumstances was wearing at his emotional control, something Phil prided himself in having an abundance of. Dan lingered behind as Phil began packing away the pancakes into the cooler, then their eyes met and Phil’s stomach clenched like a fist.

            Phil thought about last night. Dan had started crying into Phil’s shoulder. It had started as sniffles, which turned into little heaving sobs, then dissolved back into whimpers as Dan nuzzled his brother’s right shoulder. Phil had pretended to be asleep on his back to see if Dan would still try something. He hadn’t expected Dan to cling to him and cry. It worried Phil.

            Dan felt the same clenching in his stomach for a different reason. Last night. Phil’s bed, like every night that week. Those blissful moments that Dan gave into the grossness inside him and let himself get intoxicated on the smell of Phil’s sheets and the thrill of the nearness of their bodies. But for a moment, during his sobs, he had seen his older brother’s brow wrinkle in concern, his eyelid slip open for a fraction of a second, a moment where Dan felt his insides freeze like they’d been hit with liquid nitrogen. Phil didn’t kick him out. Dan had no idea what it meant, but it made him feel a mixture of excitement and pure fear.

In that moment, though, despite the fact they were both thinking the same thing, they kept up with the angry brother charade to appease the other. There was also a sense of charge to the conversation, a currency in the air that suggested they were letting off steam more than they were discussing their situation.

“I’m not being difficult, you’re just being stupid,” replied Dan. Phil threw the pancakes onto a sheet of tinfoil and ripped it off the roll.

“No, I’m not. You need to stay here and be safe. There’s no reason for both of us to risk it,” replied Phil.

“Is this some kind of stupid big brother thing? Because newsflash, Phil, I’m a grown ass adult,” said Dan. Phil wrenched open the cooler, still not meeting Dan’s eyes as he stood with arms crossed by the kitchen table.

“Really? Because you could have fooled me with your silent treatment and hunger strike. I say something you don’t like and you act like you’re thirteen again,” shot back Phil. Behind him, Dan let out a scoff.

“That’s rich coming from the guy who’s almost thirty and lives at home with his parents,” snarked Dan. Phil slammed the cooler shut and resisted the urge to correct Dan’s “parents” to “parent.” Unlike Dan, Phil didn’t want to shoot under the belt.

“Is that really the best you could come up with, Daniel? Because I’m not the one who pouts around the house all the time, acting like everyone owes him something,” said Phil.

“Where the fuck is this coming from? You’re the one who acts like he’s this pure, perfect little son—”

“Again, can you budge off about that?” interrupted Phil. They were facing each other now, another standoff in the kitchen.

“Maybe if you stopped it I could,” said Dan. Phil rolled his eyes.

“I really have no idea where you are getting this idea from, but fine, whatever, I can work under whatever stupid pretense you have about me. That doesn’t change the fact you’ve been acting like a child all week and—”

“Why, because I cried in your bed last night? You’re going to go there, Phil?” yelled Dan. At this, his demeanor change. His puffed up chest deflated and Dan took a step back, his back against the wall. He looked like a wounded animal about to bite. The bags under his eyes were more prominent.

Phil toned it down immediately.

“No, I wasn’t going to say anything about that,” he said softly. An awkward pause overtook the room. Dan’s insides squirmed like maggots as regret made his teeth ache from clenching his jaw so hard. When he spoke, though, Dan could feel himself cringing as he made it worse.

“Because I can stop that, you know, if it’s such a damn problem,” yelled Dan, once again on the defense.

“Dan, it’s not a problem. This isn’t about you coming into my bed, I don’t care about that, I just want you to stop—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! I know it bothers you. I’ll stop. Obviously, you don’t want me,” Dan’s voice came out more childlike than he intended. If had hadn’t been purposefully misunderstanding him, it would’ve knocked the vigor out of Phil. Instead, Phil pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt an oncoming headache.

“You _know_ this isn’t about that at all, you idiot. I want you in my bed,” said Phil, to which Dan immediately felt a flush crawl up his chest at the words. A part of his brain that wasn’t worried or angry or scared wondered if his brother had any idea what kind of effect he had on his body with those words “But you need to eat and talk to me and not just demand to go out with me when I’m doing something very, very dangerous.”

“Do you think I’m stupid and don’t know that it’s dangerous? Seriously, I’m 19!” shot back Dan.

“Then act like it and talk to me, Daniel!” replied Phil.

“Stop calling me that.”

 “It’s your name.”

 “I’m done with this conversation,” at this Dan threw his hands up and stalked out of the room. Phil scoffed loudly enough for Dan to hear, but the only response was a door slam.

            For a few moments, Phil paced around the room in frustration, pulling at his hair. No one in the world pressed his buttons like his little brother. Since the aliens happened, though, everything was beginning to get more mixed up. A tornado of confusion, anger, regret, worry, panic, love, and anger whirled around inside Phil as he paced the kitchen. Finally, exhaustion overtook his body from the sheer emotional force of it all and he sat on the kitchen counter.

            This wasn’t how he wanted his first conversation with Dan after the silent treatment to go. Plus, Phil couldn’t help but replay in his mind over and over again what Dan said about crawling into bed. Phil was shocked he had brought it up, but even worse he was disappointed that Dan seemed to think that Phil hated him somehow. That -- for some godforsaken reason--  Phil, who had been craving brotherly affection for years, would reject some small snuggles, particularly when they were so confused about the world crumbling around them.

            Looking out the window, Phil noticed that the kitchen had gone from a soft blue light to a brilliant orange. Sunset. Supply hunting was going to have to wait one more day. It wasn’t until the power turned off that Phil willed himself to get up, recheck the locks and security measures, and grab his book from the den. Heading up to his room, Phil paused outside Dan’s door, intending on saying something nasty, thought better of it, and headed off to his own room. The house was eerily silent.

* * *

 

            For the first time in a week, Phil was surprised when Dan crawled into bed. This time, he didn’t hide the fact he was awake. Rolling over, Phil watched as the silhouette in the doorway (lit by moonlight—the lights still hadn’t come back on) shuffled over to his bed. Dan was shirtless, hair rumbled, and his eyes were puffy from crying. Without a word, Phil scooted over to make room for him.

            In the shadows of the night, Phil didn’t feel angry any more. A small part of his tired brain assumed he should have felt anger, or that by morning maybe his irritation would resurface, but in the shroud of evening things were different. People were different at night.

            Dan didn’t go for any of his bolder cuddles. Instead he curled up against Phil’s back, tucking his face between his older brother’s shoulder blades in a way that was slowly becoming familiar. There was no nuzzling this time, whimpers, or hesitant touches. Soon Dan’s breathing petered down and Phil assumed he was asleep. With that safely assured, Phil closed his own eyes and tried to think of pleasant thoughts. He wasn’t counting sheep, per say, but he was avoiding any thoughts about brothers, aliens, dead parents, or marshal law.

            Phil was on the cusp of sleep. His breath had changed, his shoulders relaxed, and to an onlooker, he was asleep, not suspended in that half-nebula that could produce odd disassociations, random thoughts that rose up like warm patches of water in a freezing lake, and falling sensations that could jar one awake. He was awake, but he wasn’t. Dan didn’t know this.

            “I love you,” Dan whispered. He curled back into his spot between Phil’s shoulders.

            “Love you too,” muttered Phil before falling into a dreamless sleep.

            Dan ended up lying awake the entire night.


	8. Chapter 8

            “I don’t think a baseball bat and kitchen knife are going to be of much protection.”

            “What other option do we have?”

            It was only 9 AM, and Phil was already exhausted. He’d gotten plenty of sleep, as there wasn’t much for him to do once the sun went down, though, of course, it wasn’t a physical exhaustion, but a mental one. Dan had woken him up at sunrise with an empty backpack in each hand. Dressed and impatient to go, Dan had followed Phil around the house badgering him with annoying questions and concerns. Phil tried to field them all with some sense of sincerity—after all, Dan was probably just anxious about the trip—but he was beginning to get tired. Everything with his little brother was so negative. Phil just wanted to go and see what happened. Yes, there was the off chance something bad could happen, but Phil highly doubted they would die. A part of him wondered if he was just stuck in that comfort of mortality that modern living provided the young or if he was just accepting whatever fate they would meet because they didn’t have a choice about getting supplies.

            Still, Dan’s constant negativity about the situation wasn’t making anything easier.

            “I don’t know,” grumbled Dan, arms crossed. They stood in the threshold of their house, dressed in dark clothes to seem more inconspicuous “But we have to have something better than _this_.”

            “No, we really don’t,” said Phil. He held out the kitchen knife to Dan, who took it with a frown.

            “So-- are we taking the car or not?” asked Dan. Grabbing the baseball bat from its resting place near the front door, Phil took care to zip up his backpack and look out the peephole.

            “No. Tesco is only a ten minute walk and I don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” replied Phil. Dan shook his head.

            “Okay, but if we get caught by those things, the car can provide some protection and we can get away quicker,” replied Daniel. Pushing back irritation that was mounting by the second, Phil took a deep breath.

            “Well the plan is to not get caught. We’ve only seen one of the ali—one of the things. I don’t think they’re exactly lurking around the neighborhood,” responded Phil.

            “Yeah, but there may be more around Tesco, since there are more people who gather there,” said Dan. Phil pulled back from the peephole to look his brother in the eyes and found Dan with his arms crossed, looking pissed as usual.

            “Just trust me on this. I’ll make sure we’re safe,” said Phil.

            “Okay, but how?” Dan’s voice lilted sarcastically “I know you’re on this ‘man of the house’ trip or whatever because you’re oldest, but seriously, Phil, we have to consider worst case scenario.”

            “I _have_ considered worst case scenario,” said Phil “It’s not my fault you’ve considered nothing but that.” Dan scoffed and rolled his eyes like a teenager. As he spoke, he waved the knife around in the air unconsciously.

            “But have you, Phil? I feel like you’re just taking this in stride with your ‘always sunny’ disposition or whatever. You need to consider the fact that if we fuck up, we could die,” said Dan.

            “Dan, Jesus Christ, could you just listen for once?!” yelled Phil. Dan silenced in shock, not used to hearing him yell. Phil sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose (as was becoming habit), and stalked off into the kitchen. Shortly after, Dan followed him.

            “I don’t think you’re considering everything, is all,” said Dan more mildly, not meeting his eyes. Phil also didn’t meet his eyes, looking down at the baseball bat instead. He couldn’t help but imagine having to use it.

            “Why can’t you just trust me on this?” asked Phil. There was a pregnant pause until Dan sat at the table across from Phil. Phil looked up. His little brother looked older than nineteen, with the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever, but also younger, with the roundness in his face not yet hardened by maturity.

            “I don’t really trust anyone,” mumbled Dan “Sorry.”

            Phil considered this as another pause overtook them. Phil could list off on one hand the number of people he trusted. His parents weren’t on that list. They hadn’t been in a very, very long time. For a while, Phil felt like he couldn’t trust anyone, but then he met some friends in Uni and felt a little more like people weren’t all bad. Truthfully, though, it wasn’t like Phil let people in. Still, it stung that Dan didn’t trust him, even if it was understandable.

            “I know that,” said Phil “But I want you to be able to trust me.”

            “I—”

            “No, actually, you’re going to have to trust me,” corrected Phil, straightening his spine “We’re all each other has right now. I don’t know what this alien thing is going to turn into, but we don’t have anyone else at the moment. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me because I know you don’t—I know I’m not your favorite person in the world. But I love you and if I want to do something, it’s because I want you to be safe. You have to understand that, even if you don’t want to,” said Phil. He leaned over the table, hands hovering near Dan’s, but thought better of it and leaned back. Dan looked up at him now from under his mop of curly hair, which was getting progressively more unruly the longer he went without a haircut. He glared.

            “Sure, whatever,” he griped.

            “Don’t ‘sure, whatever’ me. Come on,” Phil said, irritation creeping back into his voice. Dan sighed loudly, pushing the hair out of his face.

            “Regardless of how you feel, that doesn’t mean you’re right. If you want me to trust you, you need to listen to me. Can we please take the car?” Dan’s eyes grew wide, puppy like. Phil felt his heart pick up a little, and he felt odd about it.

            “Why can’t we—”

            “Because I’d feel safer in the car. I just want to feel safe, okay?”

            They locked eyes. Dan refused to look down, his expression both fierce and pleading, somehow. Phil searched his face for an answer before finally relenting.

            “Okay. But I’m driving.”

* * *

 

            Tesco was thankfully open despite the fact it was abandoned. Outside the building, a few spilled boxes of cereal, overturned carts, and crushed bags littered the ground. Normally the litter would be picked up by an employee, but not only were they long gone, but the grocery store was empty. There were signs of a rush (likely to have happened in the initial days of the invasion). Looking out the dirty mini van window, Dan noted how much closer the hovering craft was than in the neighborhood. It wasn’t a flying saucer, but it also wasn’t a series of lights like it appeared from their home. It was an odd shimmer to the air like heat coming off the pavement. It sent a cold rush down his spine, so Dan avoided looking at it as Phil parked on the sidewalk next to Tesco.

            “Alright, so here’s the list,” said Phil, pulling out a paper list from the home. It was crumpled from being in his pocket and had the words “Grocery List” printed on top in cheery green letters. It was from a notepad their mother stuck to the fridge. For some reason, the lettering—so happy and normal—felt out of place in the new setting. Could this really count as a “grocery run”? It felt all too apocalyptic for that.

            “Canned foods, if there are any left, with an emphasis on chicken and beans,” Phil had read somewhere that protein made one feel fuller for longer. He hoped they wouldn’t have a need to conserve food or feel full when they were not truly full, but it was still useful. “Medicine, especially cold and flu and fever reducer,” This was just useful—they were low on aspirin. “Toilet paper and toothpaste,” Phil prayed they wouldn’t ever run out of these items anytime soon. “Then perishables. So we can get cookies and chips, but we will have to eat those first in case they go stale.”

            “Ramen noodles don’t go stale,” Dan pointed out. Phil noted “Ramen” on his list and nodded tersely.

            “Ready?” asked Phil. They looked out the van window, both surveying the parking lot closely. No one. Craning his neck up, Phil peered into the Tesco windows, trying to see any signs of life. Once again, no one was there.

            “Sure,” said Dan, but his heart was pounding hard in his chest. It was the kind of adrenaline rush he used to get from rollercoasters or talking to cute boys online—a mixture of fear, curiosity, and excitement—and made his chest constrict with anxiety. Phil opened the van door first and headed toward the front door. Dan followed with a little run around the vehicle, his heart pounding at the idea of being left behind. Although they had agreed they would split up to cover more of the store, Dan now felt paralyzed with fear and didn’t want to leave his brother’s side. Phil didn’t argue. They walked through the front doors, which thankfully opened on their own since the power had been back on for a few hours, grabbed a cart, and headed to the canned food.

            As expected, a lot of it had been cleared out, but not all. It seemed that a large fraction of people had left behind canned chicken, spinach, and tomato in favor of black beans or lima beans, which arguably felt more “apocalyptic.” It was odd how ideas had circulated like that in an unconscious group mind influenced by the alien movies they had all seen growing up in the modern world. Some things “felt apocalyptic” and thus more people, thinking this was the end of days as seen on the screen, grabbed foods that fit that narrative. Phil was happy, though, because chicken meant chicken salad sandwiches.

            There had been an abundance of bread, and although perishable, the boys still grabbed a few armfuls. Medicine was nearly untouched, particularly vitamins, so Dan grabbed a few bottles of iron and vitamin D supplements because he figured, if nothing else, it would keep his mood up when it got cold. It was at the medicine that the brothers felt comfortable enough to separate, with Phil rolling the cart over to the household goods section as Dan made a beeline to the soup section in search of ramen.

            Everything carried with it an odd, palpable feeling. Empty buildings were eerie as it was, but with the circumstances a current ran through the grocery store. For Dan, the abandoned Tesco—with rotting fruit in the fresh section, a spilled carton of milk that had long gone curdled, a few overturned boxes and carts—filled him with what could only be called existential angst as he grappled with the fragility of human construct that was altered so visibly by what was essentially a blip in human existence. Yes, an alien invasion was “big” on one level, but with all considered-- from plagues to wars to nuclear explosions-- it was simply another event that could very well be chalked up in history by numbers, dates, and executive motions. Meanwhile Dan’s world had been completed turned upside down. His father was dead, his neighbors had disappeared, his city had had a mass exodus, and a strange entity had invaded, thus shutting down his modern amenities. Not only that, but as Phil had pointed out earlier, all he had now for social interaction was his brother. A brother that Dan could not pinpoint his feelings for and someone who made Dan both joyfully upset and depressingly happy. The Tesco—in all it abandoned glory—made Dan’s mind run wild with the fears and anxieties this change had brought.

            Meanwhile, Phil looked around the Tesco with a growing amount of fear. Of course he had been nervous upon entering the changed space, but seeing the effects of the aliens made the invasion all that much more real. It was one thing to read about the emptying of London on blogs, but with the lights still coming on part of the time and Wi-Fi being hit or miss, it had all felt removed enough that his biggest issue had really been his brother’s mood swings. Now, though, as Phil moved through the home section grabbing packs of unsold, un-stolen toilet paper, he could see the emptiness of the space, the messes left in the frozen section by people rushed to grab food before they left the city, and the immediate takeover of nature upon the dismissal of humans. A squirrel had run past him upon entering the canned section for another sweep over, and the flutter of birds could be heard in the rafters above.

            Awkwardly, the boys met up at the checkout line, which was completely devoid of human life. It had been habit to walk to check out and walking out without paying felt illicit. Still, with a shrug, Phil silently led Dan back to their car. They unlocked the door and began loading the un-bagged food into cardboard boxes they had left in the back. Behind them, the wind blew a cart, causing a large clanging to ring through the parking lot. Both jumped, turned around, and then met eyes with ginger smiles.

            When Phil slammed the boot door shut, he realized just how easy it had all been. There had been no show down with aliens, no encounters with desperate looters, and not even any scares with losing each other. It had gone just as according to plan. Yet Phil drove in silence, as both were faced not with some movie-like adventure, but rather, the reality of the now-changed world around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update. I'm back to school (I'm a teacher) and it's been kicking my butt. Still I found time during planning period to write this. Don't worry, now that the exsistential angst is out of the way, we will get some more *ahem* content in the next chapter (meaning I'm going to write some dabblings in smut, maybe). Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Therapy and mentions of abuse. Also, obviously, incest.

Dan was going stir crazy, so he felt a little reckless. Or maybe it wasn’t just stir craziness from being cooped up in the house the whole time, but the after effects of seeing the Tesco abandoned. It was a metaphor for Dan’s old life, which had ultimately been left behind

For the week following the grocery run, Dan had stopped coming into Phil’s bed at night. He also hadn’t been eating much, which Dan really didn’t notice until one day, during a bathroom trip shirtless, he noted how much more prominent his ribcage looked in the mirror. After that, Dan forced himself to eat the breakfast Phil kindly left outside his door each morning. Lying down on his floor, Dan spent hours staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. He didn’t want to do anything and he didn’t bother to take his meds. Days and nights slipped by only punctuated by the occasional knock on the door with Phil’s concerned voice asking Dan how he was doing, to which the answer was always “Fine, just leave me alone.”

From his spot on the floor, Dan thought about a lot of things. He grappled with the fact that the world very well could be ending, or at least the world as he knew it. Another part of him marveled at his… relief. If the world was, in fact, ending, that didn’t mean Dan would have to pick a career. His new career was simply “survival.” Likewise, Dan wouldn’t get therapy anymore and wouldn’t be able to get more meds after his latest dose ran out. That relief was overwhelmed by fear that he would be consumed by his depression before he could even make the choice to survive.

After days of contemplating his existence and what it all meant now that the world was so different, Dan thought about his relationship with his brother. He couldn’t help but think about what Phil had said: they were all each other had. Problems in the past aside, this also terrified Dan. What if Phil found out about his feelings for him? Dan couldn’t even make sense of them.

There was, of course, brotherly love. Phil made Dan feel safe, and while Dan still felt that Phil was all too apathetic about their parents, he was the only other one who had dealt with their neglect. Phil had been his childhood playmate. He’d been someone Dan used to look up to before everything happened. Like most brothers, Phil had his moments of being irritating, self righteous, and petty, but these irritations were shadowed by their sibling bond. But then, of course, there were the feelings Dan had articulated once in therapy years ago.

“I’ve starting thinking about him when I masturbate,” the words came out of nowhere on a Tuesday morning session in the winter and Dan’s face was burning red. His therapist, Rob, looked up from his notes with eyebrows raised. Sometimes, getting information from Daniel was like pulling teeth. Other times, it came from nowhere like this, and Rob took a moment to compose himself before asking a follow up question.

“Thinking about who?”

Dan liked his therapist, even if sometimes Rob’s recommendations to do things like eat and shower seemed impossible. There had been periods of trial and error before they found sessions that worked. Rob was middle aged, with kids, and had the kind of calm demeanor that made him easy to talk to. On top of that, he was real. He made jokes and laughed at Dan’s ridiculous expletives and let Dan lead the sessions. Dan still stood by that he didn’t trust anyone, but Rob was about as close as it got because, if nothing else, _legally_ Rob couldn’t tell anyone anything without Dan’s signed permission.

“My brother.”

This would normally be something that Dan wouldn’t tell anyone, but it had been keeping him up at night and was the main cause for his lack of sleep. There was a pause and Rob kept his face utterly still as he wrote careful notes on his clipboard. He looked up and smiled.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah I… wasn’t expecting that,” said Rob carefully. Dan squeezed his eyes shut and looked down at the floor, his stomach lurching with anxiety.

“You probably think I’m disgusting. God, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Daniel, of course I don’t think that. First of all, it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard in these kind of sessions. Also, sometimes we can’t control what pops into our mind during those moments. Is there a reason your bringing it up? Is it bothering you?” asked Rob. Dan looked up, his expression comedically horrified.

“Of course it’s bothering me! He’s my brother for fuck’s sake,” Dan looked away again, his face tomato red with embarrassment “And it’s not just the occasional thought. He’s all I can think about. He makes me… want to.. do it..”

“Do you think there is a reason for that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Well, it depends on the circumstances. There are a lot of reasons one might have incestuous feelings. Sometimes it has to do with abuse, either from him or your parents. Has your brother or parents abused you sexually in away now or in your childhood?”

“No, he didn’t abuse me, nor did my parents. Actually, he’s literally never done anything like that. Before I was a teenager, he was pretty much the perfect brother, and he’s still annoyingly nice to me all the damn time. We barely even talk anymore. He thinks I hate him,” Dan picked at his cuticles, watching as his thumb began to bleed. Dan didn’t self harm, but he could see why people did. The pain distracted him enough to keep talking.

“Do you hate him?”

“I don’t think so. He pisses me off sometimes, but that’s how everyone is with their brother,” Dan sighed “But still, whether I like him or not doesn’t mean I should feel like I want to fuck him.” Pulling his thumb up to his mouth, Dan licked on the blood by his cuticle. It reappeared. He wiped the blood on his jeans and didn’t worry about it staining.

“So do you just—and you don’t have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable—do you just picture him in a lustful way while you’re masturbating, or do you have actual plans to have sex with him?”

“How could I have plans? We don’t even hang out. If I tried to make a move on him, he’d probably report me to the police.”

“Is that true?”

“No. He’d probably just be worried about me.”

The conversation had devolved after that, with Rob pressing Dan for details about the relationship, which ultimately boiled down to the fact that Dan was the one who, seemingly out of nowhere, had feelings for Phil that were both sexual and romantic.

“Yes, I want to date him,” explained Dan. Tears had sprung to his eyes as the conversation wore on, but he held them back and blinked in a vain attempt to hide his upset from Rob “He’s the nicest person I know.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with your parents?” Rob leaned back in his chair, notepad and pen forgotten on the oak desk. Dan shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” said Dan. There was a pause, long enough that Dan looked up through watery eyes. Rob was watching him carefully, but not critically, to Dan’s relief.

“Do you want to know what I think?” said Rob at last. Dan nodded, not trusting his voice “I think that Phil is the only one you feel a connection with. You’re not a sociopath or anything, just really closed off. And even though you and Phil haven’t really connected in a long time, he’s the only one you ever let in.”

“But why do I want to—”

“Well, there’s intimacy with that, for one. And you haven’t really had intimacy with anyone before,” Rob sighed “Do you think you could talk about it with him?”

“What?! Are you insane?”

The conversation devolved even more at that point. Finally, as the session came to a close, Dan told Rob he never wanted to talk about the topic again. From then on out anytime Rob mentioned it, even with the most delicacy, Dan shut him down.

It wasn’t until that moment, with Dan lying on his bedroom floor pondering what the world was becoming, that he actually considered what Rob had said over a year ago. Maybe Dan _should_ talk to Phil about his weird feelings. Of course, Dan felt a little awkward about it all, because Rob had suggested he apologize and possibly explain why he had been so distant. He had suggested that Dan make an attempt to rebuild a _platonic_ relationship.

Dan, on the other hand, wanted to see if Phil felt the same way.

* * *

 

 The best time to have this conversation, Dan decided, was at midnight as he was getting into Phil’s bed. This meant that if things went poorly, he could easily escape to his bedroom, and  that, in the shadow of the night, it would be easier to blame it on sleep deprivation. The idea had seemed good by night, bad by day, making midnight a much better time to discuss the matter at hand. Dan realized that in the glaring sunlight of the morning, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to ask Phil if he had similar feelings. It was too real. So Dan-- with impulsiveness brought on by isolation-- ended up wandering into Phil’s room on a starless, moonless night shrouded by thundering clouds and shaking him awake.

“Dan? Is everything alright?” Phil said, blinking awake. Only, Dan didn’t hear him, as his heart was beating so hard and so fast all he could hear was the thrumming of blood in his ears. His body felt dull with adrenaline and sweat made his nightclothes cling to his body. Hovering over Phil, Dan realized that there was no way he was going to say what he had planned with such a scratchy throat. Dan swallowed hard, but his mouth still felt cotton dry.

_“Phil, I know this is crazy, but I just think you need to know: I’ve been avoiding you because I have these feelings for you that aren’t normal. Please don’t be mad at me, I’ve tried not to, but the truth is I really don’t want to treat you like a brother. I want to do things to you that aren’t exactly brotherly. I don’t know if this grosses you out, because it used to gross me out, but now I don’t care. The world is fucking ending, and you just needed to know. Is there any possibility you feel the same way, or am I just wrong and disgusting? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this is how things are. I wish I could be better sibling, I wish I didn’t feel weird like this, but I want to know if I’m crazy for feeling this chemistry between us. If you hate me now, I’m sorry. We can try to keep our distance until I feel normal again. But if this doesn’t sound as weird to you as it did to my therapist, maybe we could do something about it. I don’t know what, you’ll have to show me what to do. Please just tell me it’s going to be okay.”_

The plan had been a mixture of begging for forgiveness mixed in with confessions and a desperate hope that maybe Phil would forgive him. Dan didn’t realistically think there was any way that Phil felt the same way, but he hoped that maybe Phil would at least admit that there had been some tension between them even if it had all been Dan’s fault for being weird. But standing there at the foot of the bed, barely visible beyond the adjusting of his eyes, Dan couldn’t seem to get the words out. His silence perturbed Phil, who immediately sat up and crawled to the end of the bed. Gently, he took Dan’s shoulders.

“Oh God, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” asked Phil, staring hard at Dan who just stood there shaking. Panic had immediately woken Phil up. Dan was acting weird—something must have happened. Before his brain could begin to conjure up ideas of what had happened, Dan moved.

Leaning foreword, then hesitating a moment, Dan hovered his mouth over Phil’s. Phil didn’t back away. Gently, hands shaking visibly at his side, Dan kissed Phil. It was delicate, barely there, and almost prey-like, and as quickly as it started, it ended. Then Dan was gone, disappeared into the hallway. Phil sat back on his heels, mind racing. The kiss had been so soft it was like a whisper in Phil’s memory so quiet that he doubted that it even happened. Still in shock, Phil laid back down on his bed, fingers hovering above his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo as it turns out, I went on sort of a writing binge, so expect one or two more chapters this week. Please comment below if you are liking the story so far and thank you so much for reading my filth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: So this is the part of the story where things start to *ahem* "heat up" shall we say. If you are someone who is not into reading about kissing and arousal, you might wanna skip the last half of this one. At the end, I'll put a summary of what happened.
> 
> Also guys, this fic is about to go downhill from angsty angst to incesty grossness. Get ready for things to go from 0 to 100 in the next few chapters. I promise that after all fanservice we will get back to our regular scheduled programming. In the meantime, enjoy my incesty filth. 
> 
> Sidenote: I do not in any way condone incest in real life. In the real not fanfictiony world, this isn't okay and can ruin families so please don't think I'm promoting or condoning this behavior in anyway. Likewise, as a fantasy/kink/opportunity for angst, I think fictional incest is fascinating. Hopefully, if you've made it this far, you do too and understand the boundaries, but I figured it might be responsible to add a note before things get weird.

The next morning when Dan finally emerged from his bedroom, desperate for the bathroom, he found Phil sitting on the floor in the hallway still in pajamas with hair rumpled from sleep. Hearing the sound of the door, Phil looked up from his book with calm blue eyes that Dan felt like he could swim in. Unfortunately, Dan’s heart leapt into his throat as he realized that his brother had been waiting for him. Resisting the urge to slam the door shut, Dan swallowed hard and made to walk past him, but Phil stood up.

“Dan, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dan deadpanned, not making eye contact. Unfortunately, Phil stood in between Dan and the hallway exit, and unless he pushed past, there was no way Dan could get to the bathroom. The idea of touching his older brother even in the most platonic way mortified Dan.

“No, wait, you just need to—”

“I’m sorry, okay? Can you leave me alone? I won’t do it again, I promise,” the words came bubbling up like a pot boiling over. Dan felt so many things, but guilt was by far the most prominent. Right when he and Phil were actually starting to interact again, he had to go mess it up because of his sick urges.

Phil, on the other hand, felt nagging worry. He didn’t know what the kiss was about, but he wanted to know why Dan was so upset. Was the kiss supposed to mean something? Had Dan just never kissed someone before? Because of this concern, Phil stood his ground as they faced off in the hallway.  

“You don’t need to be sorry. I just want to understand what’s going on. Dan, is something wrong?” asked Phil. At this, Dan balked.

“Is something wrong? I k—were you not awake last night or something when I, uh, when I—”

“Kissed me?” Phil cocked on eyebrow “That’s what happened, you can say it.” Dan sighed, long, and looked toward his bedroom, wishing he were still in bed sulking.

“Yeah but I don’t want to! Because you’re my goddamn brother. That’s not—I shouldn’t have…” Dan groaned “Oh god.” He covered his bright red face with his hands. Phil watched Dan, scanning his skinny frame that was only getting skinnier with every skipped meal. All he wanted was to pull Dan into a hug, but he realized that this would only make the situation worse.

“Look, it didn’t bother me,” at this Dan peeked up at him from between his fingers “I just want to know why you wanted to do that. Are you lonely or something? I mean, our family doesn’t usually kiss, but if you want more affection I can—”

“That’s not why—no, um, nevermind. I just…” Dan shook his head and finally made a move to go back to his room, bathroom be damned. Phil, with more athleticism than Dan had seen in a while, hopped over and blocked his way.

“No, let’s talk about this. I get that you’re all upset and embarrassed but—”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” murmured Dan moodily. Daring eye contact, he saw Phil give him a sympathetic smile. Worry still stormed behind his eyes despite the tenderness Phil was trying to show.

“Okay, right. I just want to know why. Did I do something wrong?” asked Phil. For a moment, Dan allowed himself to stare, dumbly. Then he blinked a few times in confusion and began scratching the back of his neck.

“No. No you didn’t. I did. I mean, I kissed—I kissed you. That’s not normal I’m-I’m your brother,” said Dan, voice shaking like his hands. Taking a leap of faith, Phil dared to place his hands on Dan’s shoulder, causing the younger to flinch away. While Dan avoided eye contact, Phil examined him closely and held firm.

“Well no it’s not normal for our family, but plenty of families kiss,” Phil paused, considering “Or was it something else that made you want to kiss me?”

A long, loaded silence made Dan turn an even more violent shade of red. That’s when realization dawned on Phil, and he dropped his hands from Dan’s shoulder and turned tomato himself.

“Oh…” he said softly. Dan, looking away, nodded gently.

“Um, yeah,” he confirmed. Inside, his stomach was flipping around so much, Dan was certain he was going to hurl. An even longer pause. Dan started walking toward his bedroom with full intentions of burying himself under the covers and never coming out. Once again, Phil stopped him.

“Hey,” he said. Dan looked up, irritation fluttering over his otherwise mortified face.

“What, Phil?” he asked with no lack of venom at saying his brother’s name. Phil paused, backed away a little, then set his mouth in a firm line.

“I’m not angry,” he said at last “It’s okay.”

Nevertheless, Dan disappeared into his bedroom with a slam of the door.

* * *

 

            As confusing as Dan’s confession was, an equal part of it made sense to Phil.

            Dan had feelings for Phil. Feelings that weren’t exactly brotherly. As Phil watched the sunrise, turning the room a soft duckling yellow through the gauzy curtains, he contemplated why he didn’t feel anything other than relief. That same sense of “I’m feeling the wrong emotion” crept up on Phil. It seemed to be a running theme. When the aliens first invaded, Phil didn’t feel fear, only mild concern for his brother. When their father died, he felt numb. Now, when his brother confessed incestuous feelings and had even kissed him, all Phil felt was curiosity and relief.

            Because the truth of the matter was that while Dan certainly didn’t feel the same way as Phil (who felt nothing but brotherly love), he didn’t, in fact, hate Phil. It seemed totally within Dan’s character to avoid Phil and push him away when Dan didn’t know how to process his emotions. Of course, there was also the slight chance that Dan had only just recently developed these feelings, but Phil found it unlikely. He thought of all the times that Dan had begun wildly blushing before pulling him into an argument. Of all the times he caught Dan staring, only to have the longing glance turn into a glare. The amount of relief that Phil felt that Dan didn’t actually hate him overshadowed any other negative feelings he might have had.

            Of course, it did bother Phil a little that he himself didn’t feel any initial disgust, and made him question his own sanity. He replayed the kiss in his mind. Dan’s lips had been feather light, but they hadn’t been bad. It hadn’t made Phil’s chest tighten in disgust, as would have been the normal response, and it didn’t make him feel nothing, like kissing a girl. It was hard to tell what the kiss had made him feel. Phil figured that the only way to find out would be to kiss Dan again.

            Nothing about the situation was simple, and Phil knew that if he decided to try to pursue this, it could lead to some places he didn’t want to go. Phil also knew that Dan was hurting and he was afraid and they were all each other had. If Phil just let this go, pretended it didn’t happen, and let Dan go on suffering in silence, eventually it would drive a wedge between them. This was the only way this path could lead if Phil didn’t do something.

            So, as the older brother, Phil figured that if Dan needed to kiss and cuddle for a while, Phil could give that to him. He didn’t exactly feel the same way, luckily, but it didn’t disgust Phil enough to justify not at least trying it out. He knew that the alternative was worse than the latter. By the time the sun had fully risen, Phil squashed down any anxieties and fears he had about the whole situation.

            He could let Dan pursue this, get whatever it was out of his system, and they could move on. It was the easiest route to take, the most selfless, and with Phil in control, nothing would get out of hand. Once the world went back to the normal, _they_ could go back to normal. Phil would make certain of it.

* * *

 

            “You will have to knock down the damn door before I come out,” said Dan, muffled through the door. Phil sighed, throwing his head back in frustration and scrubbing his hands down his face. It had been at least ten minutes of cajoling, but Dan wouldn’t open up.

            “Dan, stop being a drama queen and let me in, okay? I would like to talk to you face-to-face without a door between us,” said Phil. On the other side of the door, Phil heard rustling, but when he tried the knob it still didn’t turn. He dropped his hand and sighed.

            “No, I already know what you’re going to say,” came Dan’s voice. As per usual, he had picked up that bratty intonation that made Phil want to rip his hair out. For a brief moment, he considered saying something rude about Dan’s kissing skills to rile him up enough to open the door,but figured that would be counterintuitive to his mission.

            It was afternoon now and a touch chilly in the house. The electricity hadn’t come on all day, so Phil had skipped breakfast to be able to leave the fridge closed, trapping in the cold and buying them a day of produce. Outside, it was drizzly and grey and not at all sunny like the lovely morning light had been. Before knocking on his brother’s door, Phil had spent the morning moving about the house in a ghostlike state, contemplating what exactly he would say once Dan had woken up. Despite the fact he didn’t usually get anxious, Phil still felt a little awkward and nervous. After lingering outside his bedroom for well over an hour, Phil finally settled on the fact that it was going to take some work to get Daniel to emerge from his cave.

            “Oh really? Why do I highly doubt that?” said Phil sarcastically, almost cheerily considering the circumstances. There was a shocked pause on the other side of the door, but Dan stubbornly refused to unlock the door. Once again, Phil sighed.

            “I’m not leaving,” said Dan again “I’ve starting peeing out the window.”

            “Ew, gross,” murmured Phil, rolling his eyes.

            “Go away,” said Dan once again, to which Phil responded to by cheekily rapping his knuckles against the door. On the other side, he heard a groan.

            “Could you budge off?” asked Daniel. Phil rapped his knuckles against the door again, this time doing a pattern.

            “No, we obviously need to talk,” replied Phil.

            “No, we don’t,” said Dan “Go the hell away.” Sighing, Phil quit knocking at the door and instead slid against the cool oak. He landed on the carpet with a not-so-graceful thump, and watched his colorful socks while he spoke. Tapping his toes together, Phil took out his nervous energy by drawing lines in the carpet with his thumb.

            “Okay, fine, then I guess I’ll just say what I have to say through the damn door since you’re being so stubborn,” Phil took a deep breath, then went on with what he had planned “I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s cool.”

            Phil fell backward as the door suddenly ripped open. When he looked up, his ice blue eyes met bedraggled brown. Dan looked down at him from hooded eyes.

            “Very funny,” he sneered. Phil sat up and turned around, letting himself into the room before Dan could lock him out again.

            “I’m not joking,” said Phil. He sat down on Dan’s bed, which was unmade and vaguely smelled of him. It wasn’t a good or bad smell, but aggressively Dan. Phil smoothed down the sheets and looked up at his little brother who stood against the opposite wall, squinting in assessment.

            “That’s not funny,” repeated Dan. Phil met his eyes and smiled kindly.

            “It’s not supposed to be,” said Phil “Look, I get that it’s weird—”

            “Um, yeah,” Dan looked around like he was searching for hidden cameras, his eyes wide.

            “… But I understand where you’re coming from. Dan, I don’t care if you have feelings for me, I—” Phil paused, considered his words, then continued “I liked the kiss.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either. Phil was apathetic to the kiss, but he did like Dan. Dan gave him a dubious look, and Phil held up his hands in surrender.

            “So… You’re not disgusted by me?” asked Dan. Phil smiled again, continuously forgiving and kind.

            “Of course I’m not,” replied Phil quietly. At this, Dan looked away and swallowed hard. For a moment, Phil worried he was going to start crying, but instead Dan looked at him with a hard set in his jaw.

            “You’re not making fun of me?” he asked with desperation coloring his voice. Phil nodded, watching him closely.

            “I’m not. It’s going to be okay,” said Phil. Dan nodded and examined the floor. Phil could almost see the gears turning in his brain, so he patted the spot beside him on the bed.

            “Come here,” said Phil. For a moment, Dan hesitated, but then with a nervous quickness he joined Phil on the bed. A blush colored the apples of his cheeks, and he looked up at Phil, doe-like. Now it was Phil’s turn to be nervous, as he’d never seen his little brother like this before. Their eyes locked, and Phil could see that Dan’s pupils were blown up and his breathing pattern had changed. Dan was not only visibly nervous, but openly attracted to Phil for the first time. Seeing the effect he had on his little brother made Phil second guess his decision, but he hesitantly rested a hand on Dan’s, which only made his breathing more ragged.

            “So, um, I’ll lead the way on this,” Phil bit his lip “You know, being the older brother and all.”

            “God, this is so fucked up,” breathed Dan. Phil shrugged.

            “It is what it is. Here,” Phil awkwardly took Dan’s chin in his hand. Dan blinked and before their lips could meet, he let out a goofy giggle. Phil let go of his chin, face burning, but then saw that for the first time in what seemed like forever Dan was laughing, genuinely laughing, with his dimples showing and little snort ringing through. Sitting back, Phil joined him with a smile.

            “I’m sorry,” chuckled Dan “The look on your face was just so concentrated.” Dan kept laughing while Phil made a mock-offended face.

            “Hey! Don’t be mean to me for my pre-kissing skills,” exclaimed Phil. This only made Dan laugh harder, a wonderful release to the tension that had been lingering around the house for days.

            “ ‘Pre-Kissing Skills’—what does that even mean, you spork?” said Dan. At last, his laughing had died down, but the smile remained. Phil felt his heart grow with affection, seeing the happiness he had brought to his brother. God, to make Dan laugh, Phil would do just about anything.

            “Sorry,” Dan said at last “I’m really not making fun of you. I’m just nervous, is all.” Finally, the smile dropped off Dan’s face as he remembered the odd circumstances that had brought him there, sitting on the bed, facing his older brother, hoping that they could kiss. Odd, odd circumstances they were, Dan felt a lightness now that he didn’t have to hide or bury so much. He wondered, vaguely, if it were a delirium—had his secrets and desires become too much to bare? Had he just snapped?

            Was this what the end of the world felt like?

            “I know that,” said Phil. This time, instead of taking Dan’s chin or making a show of it in any way, he simply leaned foreword. Before Dan could respond, Phil was kissing him. At that moment, any thoughts, fears, or worries disappeared to the back of Dan’s mind like junk shoved into an unseen closet-- out of sight.

            Instead, for a blissful moment, Dan could focus on the lovely feeling of being kissed. Truthfully, Dan had only kissed one other guy, in high school, and Phil had only kissed a handful of people in college. Still true to his word, Phil took the lead.

            At first it was a simple meeting of lips, but Phil leaned foreword and went with his original plan to cup Dan’s face in his palm. Feeling bold, he used his other hand to pull Dan closer by the small of his back. The original plan had just been light, innocent kisses, as Phil figured that would be enough to appease Dan without going too far past the ‘platonic’ boundary. Likewise, to both Dan and Phil’s surprise, Phil was getting more into this than he expected. In that moment, there wasn’t guilt, only spark and heat. It felt like kissing, as they both knew it, was redefined.

            Dan felt his heart pounding like it had the night he had snuck into Phil’s room, only this time his mind wasn’t a clutter of fear, but had one question—how far? How far was Dan allowed to take this? It was like all the wet dreams and fantasies had come to life, and something inside Dan felt unlocked, making him want to push the envelope of an already delicate situation. He kissed back a little harder, allowed himself to nip at Phil’s lower lip, and wrapped his arms around his older brother’s body.

            Phil felt dizzy with it all. He couldn’t believe just how reactive Dan was and how his body moved beneath his touch. When Phil’s hand brushed the gap between Dan’s shirt and pajama pants, Dan’s skin turned to gooseflesh and he jumped. Breaking the kiss, Dan laid back onto the bed and grabbed onto Phil’s arms, pulling him close. Phil complied and wordlessly, breathlessly, began to kiss his little brother again.

            Now that they were lying on the bed, the heat was even more apparent with their bodies pressed together. Their ankles were crossed and both of their hearts were pounding wildly, creating a thrumming of heat between them. Phil gripped Dan’s hip with one hand and balanced on the bed with the other. He felt Dan’s hip bone protruding in a way that, in some part of Phil’s brain, registered as worrying. Dan, on the other hand, tangled his hands up in Phil’s hair, too afraid to let them wander over the other’s body, still unsure of what the limits were. He didn’t bother being gentle and tugged with a small, breathy moan.

            They were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and time passed by without a thought. Finally, Phil pulled away, panting hard and looking confused. He sat up while Dan laid there, eyes squeezed shut as he willed his erection to go down. Phil examined him. Dan was panting too, face red, lips shiny-swollen from all the biting. In that moment, Phil realized, with a lot less clarity than before, that this plan was one that he was going to have to pursue with caution. Because Phil hadn’t expected the spark between them, and he hadn’t expected to like it this much.

            “Holy shit,” said Dan at last, letting a sigh escape as he finally began to cool down. He laughed as well, only this time it lacked humor and instead expressed wonder.

            “Yeah, I know,” said Phil softly “ _Holy shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Phil invites Dan in for a kiss and they share a brief, embarrassed laugh. Then Phil kisses Dan. At first, Phil intends to keep it tame, but then starts to get into it. They begin to make out in a heated way. Finally, Phil breaks the kiss and while Dan is all smiley and happy, Phil is beginning to worry that maybe he bit off more than he could chew with his plans to sate his brother.
> 
> Update 9/15: So my computer crashed and I lost like all my files. Luckily, my fiance has plucked the harddrive and is working to restore the 3 chapters I had written for this fic. Funnily enough, I have told him the main files to try and save are these one oppose to, like, my lesson plans and shit lol. Hopefully, after this weekend, I will have my files back. If not, I will have to begin the arduous task of re-writing all the angst and filthy smut had I planned. Likewise, at best we should be getting an update around Monday, at worst, expect one around this time next week. Thank you all for your patience and dedication! Your comments really brighten my day and encourage me to keep posting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been out of commission for a while between my giant computer crash, starting a novel, and working on my student teaching. Also a bunch of bad shit happened in my personal life, so I'm just going to be honest, if you don't like this chapter just, like, don't leave a comment. I tried my best but this update is going to be short and, also, kind of filler. I hope it's not too repetitive. I suppose I'm trying progress slowly, which to me means writing a variety of smutty scenes with similar plots but slightly upping in the stakes... You'll see. Regardless, this is my little scream into the void asking that you be kind, dear readers. 
> 
> Also, that freaking mukbang, amirite? 
> 
> TW: Making out/ Talk about consent. Ends with discussion about mental health. If you need a plot summary, read the bottom.

Phil woke up to Dan kissing his neck. For a moment, Phil simply closed his eyes and hummed.

            “Good morning,” said Dan softly against his skin. His breath smelled like mint. For a moment, Phil let himself feel happy. He let himself forget about the strange creatures that had invaded earth, the years his parents had made him feel like nothing, and the fact that the person his body was waking up for was his younger brother. No, Phil let himself forget those things because for a moment he just wanted to get lost in Dan.

            Like last time, the kissing started out gentle, but that didn’t last long. This time the main difference was Dan was pushing them along and as Phil tangled up his hands in Dan’s curly hair, Dan began to moan in his mouth, began to push the boundaries by nudging his fingertips beneath the waistband of his brother’s boxers. Likewise, Phil stayed in control by gently pulling Dan’s hands away, but he didn’t bother to be gentle about the way he grabbed the other’s wrists. Unfortunately, this roughness only spurred Dan on more.

            “Want more,” mumbled Dan for a moment as he broke the kiss. Phil didn’t have a moment to reply as Dan went back to the rough making out that was leaving both of them pounding with heat. Neither even pretended to ignore their erections now, with Dan rutting up lewdly against his older brother’s leg. Phil released his wrists and placed a gentle hand on Dan’s hip, breaking the kiss.

            “Dan, you know we can’t.” Phil put some space between them. The morning air felt cold between them in contrast to the delicious heat that their bodies had created. Glancing at his younger brother’s face, Phil could see that Dan was visibly pissed off and was biting his lip like a horny, petulant tease. Between his flushed cheeks and heaving chest, Dan was quite the sight to see and Phil had to look away.

            “We can do anything we want,” said Dan as he tried to bridge the gap between them “No one is here to stop us.”     

            “I’m here to stop us,” replied Phil. He took the pause in conversation to scoot back and put even more space between the two. Dan’s needy look and husky voice and the spark between them while they kissed was causing Phil to slowly lose grasp on control that he, as the older sibling, desperately needed to navigate this situation. When he dared a look a Dan, he saw the predatory smirk on his face.

            “Uh-huh,” he deadpanned. Then, without warning, he was on Phil again, only this time he wasn’t kissing him. Much worse—Dan was snuggling up against his neck, hot breath fanning across him, his body teasing it’s way onto Phil’s lap. Not touching, but cajoling the other to beg for his touch. Phil didn’t move as Dan teased to kiss him and sneakily pressed their bodies back together. Phil had been hard before, but now his cock was visibly throbbing in his boxers, and Dan couldn’t resist but to reach down to grab him.

            Luckily, Phil had enough sense to grab his brother’s hand before things could go further. He sighed, leaned foreword, and rested his head against Dan’s shoulder.

            “We need to go take some cold showers,” Phil said a bit miserably “I want… We can’t…”

            “Okay,” Dan relented. He took a deep breath, like Phil, and shook his head to clear his mind. They both separated. Now, Dan sat toward the foot of the bed, and Phil occupied the headboard atop the pillows. They risked a glance at each other.

            “I… I really like this,” said Dan simply “But I won’t push you. I want you but… I’m not stupid. I know why you’re hesitant. Um, I just wanted you to know that if I make you uncomfortable—”

            “Dan, that’s not why—The reason I’m saying ‘no’ is not because I dislike what we’re doing. You aren’t pressuring me or pushing my consent or anything like that. I just need to— _We_ just need to watch ourselves. We’re brothers. This can’t get too out of hand,” Phil swallowed and the two kept looking at each other. It was an important conversation, Phil knew that, but it was also an uncomfortable one.

            “I understand,” said Dan softly. He then brought his hands to his face and laid down on the bed with a large sigh. “This is so fucked. I keep oscillating between wanting you and feeling gross. I’m sorry I put this on us. I’m sorry about my stupid sick urges. I’m sorry I’m such an annoying prick. I’m sorry—”

            “Stop apologizing,” said Phil at last “This isn’t just you. I’m the one who suggested it in the first place. Dan, everything’s going to be okay.” Daring himself to move closer, Phil looped his arm around Dan’s shoulder and laid a benign kiss on his shoulder. The two turned to face each other on the bed.

            “Just let me be in charge,” said Phil. He reached up and dared to play with his brother’s curls which caused a small smile to grow on Dan’s face. Dan closed his eyes in contentment.

            “That weird big brother thing again,” murmured Dan half-heartedly.

            “Yeah,” conceded Phil “Just let your big brother handle this.”

            “This is so wrong,” replied Dan. He said it as a statement, not tinged with guilt, worry, or heat. It just was. Phil shrugged and kept at playing with his hair.

            “We feel this way for a reason. Let’s get it out of our system and then we can just put this in the past, okay?” Even though he kept his eyes closed, Dan frowned. Phil was about to ask him what was wrong when Dan leaned foreword, pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

 

Dan laid in bed that night while fighting the urge to crawl into Phil’s. It was the first night since admitting his feelings that Dan was forcing himself to hold back, to resist the urge to go to Phil. That push back from his true feelings was a comfortable space for Dan to exist in, because it had been the place he had occupied for years. That night, Dan let himself go back to the time before.

 Everything hurt, but then again, everything always hurt for Dan. This time, though, it all hurt in a new way. Before there was guilt and longing, this dark hole that paralyzed Dan into days spent staring up at the ceiling. Dan knew it wasn’t just his weird incestuous desires for his brother—there was a lot more wrong, a lot more that Dan needed to work through. A small part of him knew that his feelings for his parents and his feelings for Phil overlapped and created this need inside of him to be held, but he didn’t like to link the two, naturally. He didn’t want to think about how his messed up brain created messed up desires because he was a messed up guy.

Likewise, the new hurt was much more manic. Dan felt like he was spinning on dizzying circles of a carousel, felt like his mind moved faster than his thoughts could process, and that the world, as he knew it, was crumbling to pieces. In a way, it was. For now, they had lost society, more likely than not in a permanent way. They had lost their dad. Soon enough, Phil would get tired of Dan, and then Dan would lose the only person he ever truly cared about. Then, Dan assumed, it would be at that point he would lose his mind.

A part of Dan wanted to savor these moments of happiness for Phil. He also wanted to get as much as he could out of it before everything inevitably fell apart. Dan hated to admit it, but he wanted all of Phil, wanted to be burned badly from this illicit relationship before it finally came to an end. It made the need in Dan hurt more than ever before. It made everything so much more raw.

Likewise, in the dark that night, Dan smiled to himself. In what was probably the final spark of his fire before everything was extinguished, Dan was consumed with the happiness brighter than he’d felt in a long time.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Phil and Dan make out and discuss how their relationship can only go so far without crossing the line. Dan reflects on his new relationship with his brother and feels the happiest he's been in a long time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so from here on out, there is going to be smut. If that's not your thing, here's your warning. 
> 
> Also I'm really tired and wrote this all in a day, so I apologize in advance if this seems at all disjointed. It makes sense in my head, so let's see what the internet thinks of my beat switches. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

A few days later, Dan emerged from his bedroom to find Phil downstairs, a clipboard in hand. The younger raised a curious eyebrow.

“Food storage,” said Phil. He tipped the clipboard up toward Dan, but didn’t take his eyes off the rows of numbers. “I’m trying to make sure we aren’t eating too much, too fast.”

“Wow, that’s proactive, I suppose” Dan reached for the cereal and poured a handful into a bowl. He didn’t bother looking for milk and instead ate the cereal dry.

“Yeah well… The internet is gone,” Phil paused “My phone won’t connect to 3G and my pages won’t refresh.” Dan’s chewing slowed down.

“That’s… not good,” he said slowly. Phil nodded and his eyebrows scrunched together. Dan shoved more cereal in his mouth. Since he and Phil had started all the making out, his mind hadn’t really been on the aliens, truthfully. Dan felt a little silly. It hadn’t really been a good time to act like a horny teenager, but in reality Dan had a lot more going on than just that. Instead Dan had been acclimating to his newfound happiness. It really was strange. Dan woke up and instead of worrying about the judgement of his parents, the pressures of society, or his suppressed feelings for his brother, Dan instead felt… free. There was no world to make meaning for and no need to avoid his brother. For the first time in his life, Dan was able to wake up and just be himself.

The days bled together, enough so that Dan wasn’t sure what day of the week it was, especially since his phone had since stopped updating. Each morning Dan woke up with the sunrise, stretched, and headed downstairs to eat whatever rations Phil would allow. Sometimes Dan would read, other times he’d pull out old gaming consoles that run on batteries. Phil often had projects for him: barricading the doors, making stores of bottled water, scanning the area for binoculars to keep look out. By noon, Dan usually found his way on the roof. It felt a little scary to just sit in the backyard, with worry always pricking in the back of his mind about the creatures appearing again, but Dan now felt the energy to spend time outside, get some sunlight, so the best solution was to hang out on the roof for a few hours each day. The tree in the backyard was turning yellow and a few times Dan childishly stuffed leaves in his pocket to bring back to show his older brother. Likewise, by the time he got inside, Dan felt too embarrassed for being so sentimental about trees. For about two hours a day, Dan worked out. He liked to lift old weights from the basement that were now kept upstairs. After a shower and whatever dinner Phil prepared, Dan would snuggle up in his older brother’s bed at sunset, and they would kiss until they were too tired to keep at it. They fell asleep easily, and early compared to Dan’s old sleep schedule, but since the power no longer turned on anymore, it didn’t make much sense to waste precious candles just to hang around at night.

Of course Dan missed things like the internet and video games and a feeling of safety walking down the street, but all in all life was good. Life moved slower without the rest of society happening all at once. Dan realized that maybe part of his stress before stemmed from the fast pace everything in human society seemed to move at, and for the first time in his life Dan felt at peace with the world. Unfortunately, even with all that Dan still had depression, and his meds were running scarily low, but when it came to overall wellness Dan finally felt like a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

            It was troubling, however, that the electricity no longer worked and the internet was down. Cell phone towers had also gone down. When it came to home comforts, all they really had left was running water. Dan hadn’t seen another person since the attacks—the remaining neighbors across the street had vacated in the night at some point. Certain things were becoming more difficult. One day it got particularly cold, so Phil had debated starting a campfire in the back yard, but worried the smoke would attract the creatures. Another day they realized that because the trash service didn’t, obviously, pick up their garbage, and the house was beginning to stink, so one of Dan’s daily tasks was to bury the rotten garbage. They prayed that the water would keep running, although Phil made sure to fill out every tub, pan, and water bottle they could find.

            “So no internet means we don’t know what’s going on with the spicy boys in the sky,” said Dan flatly. Phil couldn’t help but let a smile escape, but he wrangled it in quickly.

            “Yeah,” said Phil “And knowing what’s going on will keep us safe, so…” He let the statement hang. Dan took that moment of silence to have another bite of cereal, which he washed down with tap water.

            “Let’s give it a few days,” said Dan softly. Phil simply nodded and kept looking at his clipboard. After Dan finished up his cereal, he gave a long sigh and put the bowl back in the cupboard after a rinse.

            “Any projects for today?” asked Dan. Phil shook his head and set down the clipboard.

            “Not today. Although—never mind, it’s stupid,” said Phil. With his cataloging finished, Phil took a seat at the breakfast nook, wringing his hands together before finally settling them in front of him. He picked up the salt shaker and started twirling it nervously.

            “I like stupid,” replied Dan. Feeling warmed at the sight of his brother, Dan sidled over to the other side of the breakfast nook and settled himself onto Phil’s lap. Even though Dan was significantly larger, he still fit into Phil’s lap nicely. Phil released the salt shaker, let his hands, hang for a second, then, with a bob of his Adam’s apple, placed his hands on Dan’s waist. Dan put an arm on either side of Phil’s head and looked down at him through his lashes. Without the darkness of night shrouding them, Phil felt a new thrill being so close to his little brother.

            “I don’t know,” said Phil “I just thought… Well, I usually do all the cooking. You’ll need to learn to cook for yourself some day, so—”

            “Why would I need to do that?” said Dan suddenly. His voice touched a bit higher than usual, a little shrill with surprise. Phil squeezed Dan’s waist, leaned foreword, and nuzzled gently at his neck.

            “Not like that, I’m here,” said Phil softly “I just—I want to teach you stuff, give you guidance like an older sibling is supposed to. It would be fun, I think. But it’s kind of stupid so—”

            “No I-I’d like to learn how to cook,” said Dan softly “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

 

            “Where did you learn to make this?” asked Dan. Phil lit the burner with a match, then flicked out the flame with his wrist. It smelled vaguely of sulfur in the wake.

            “Uni,” he replied simply “It’s cheap. That’s why we can make this with just canned goods.” Dan nodded. Phil had assigned him the task of draining the canned corn, spreading it out on a baking sheet, and covering it with a touch of olive oil. It was easy enough. Meanwhile, Phil sautéed a teaspoon of jarred garlic in the bottom of a saucepan. Due to the lack of electricity, some of their cooking methods had to be adjusted (see: no fresh butter to cook in), but overall Phil assumed it would taste similar if not the same to the cheap dish he used to make back in the college dorms.

            “How much cumin?” asked Dan, holding up the shaker with his hand. Phil squinted before reaching over to take the spice himself. He began to shake the slightest amount onto the corn, just coating it in a thin layer of brown dust. Dan snorted.

            “You’re such a control freak,” he observed. Phil shrugged and finished up spicing the vegetable. He then tossed the matches to Dan, who took a turn at lighting the oven.

            “A little bit,” admitted Phil with a shrug “Is that bad?”

            Dan took a moment to ponder the question and pushed the baking sheet into the warming over. He then took a moment to fish the old twist-timer out of the cupboard. It was shaped like an egg and covered in dust due to the fact that since the advent of smartphones his parents had no need to use an old fashioned timer. At this point, Dan’s phone had died and Phil’s was turned “off” to conserve battery in case of an emergency. It was weird to be back to a world with no cell phones. It gave Dan nostalgia for his childhood in the 90’s.

            “I mean, it can be annoying. But I think you’re a good leader, so it’s okay,” admitted Dan. Phil smiled, turned down the heat on the burner, and took a moment to start chopping up the canned potatoes into smaller, bite-sized pieces. He noticed Dan standing idly by the stove and offered him the knife.

            “Make sure you dice the potatoes. Do you know what dicing means?” asked Phil as Dan scooted over to take on the chopping. Dan mugged at him, making a face that indicated he found Phil’s question absolutely ridiculous.

            “No duh,” mocked Dan “I’m a bad cook, not an idiot.”

            “Hey, I’m just checking. Gosh, you always have such attitude,” Phil clucked his tongue playfully “Brat.” Dan stuck his tongue out, which only proved Phil’s point, and began slicing into the softened potatoes, trying his best to emulate Phil’s precise cuts. Meanwhile, Phil started measuring out vegetable stock. Usually, he would use chicken stock, but due to the circumstances they were subject to whatever was on hand in the pantry.

            “So if it wasn’t the apocalypse, what would you actually be teaching me to cook right now? I know this is bad, but I pretty much have avoided every meal you’ve cooked since you moved back in,” said Dan. Phil looked over curiously at his little brother while not hiding his obvious surprise.

            “I mean, I like to cook because it’s calming, but I’m not really great at it,” admitted Phil. Dan hummed softly and a comfortable silence came over them for a moment as they both worked on their respective tasks. For a moment, Phil thought to himself how wonderful it all was, how strangely fantastic doing something as simple as cooking soup with his brother could be. A month ago, Dan hated Phil, or least acted like he did. Phil would never have imagined the circumstances it would take to bring the two together. Unlike Dan, Phil couldn’t completely ignore the world around them, and sometimes with his lips still swollen from kissing so hard, Phil would lie awake with Dan in his arms worrying about what the future held with these strange creatures still looming amongst them. There was more than just the aliens, of course. Phil didn’t know where their relationship was going, and he worried, as the more responsible of the two, that they were headed for disaster. Likewise, Phil also believed in living in the moment. In that moment, cooking soup with his little brother, Phil felt calm.

            They talked for a little longer about the books they were reading, and Dan chatted excitedly about the tree changing color in the back yard. As they were adding the roasted corn to the soup mix, Phil said something that made Dan laugh, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his cheek. Phil didn’t hold back from leaning over and kissing that exact dimple, which only made Dan giggle harder.

            By the time they were almost done with the soup, Phil positioned himself behind his little brother and wrapped both arms around his waist, lowering his chin to his shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

            “Hey,” he said softly. Dan hummed in response, stirring at their soup. “This was actually really fun. I had a good time today, doing this.” Dan was quiet for a moment and Phil opened his eyes.

            “Yeah,” said Dan softly “It sort of felt like a date.”

            An awkward pause.

            “Dan…” warned Phil. Slowly, Phil released his grasp from around Dan’s waist, and Dan stared down at simmering pot to avoid eye contact. The comment blindsided Phil, who felt, oddly, like the room was tilting a little bit. How was he supposed to respond to that? The kissing and affection was supposed to be a byproduct of desire. It wasn’t supposed to make them more than brothers. The worst part was Phil wasn’t sure what else to say, for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, Phil didn’t want to ruin whatever precarious happiness and peace they had built for themselves. On top of that, the comment worried Phil more than it grossed him out—worried him because he wasn’t sure what this meant about Dan’s feelings. On top of that, a teeny, tiny part of Phil agreed, but his logical side quickly ruled that out. They were allowed to love each other as brothers, and they were allowed to get this weird sexual tension out of their systems while the world was gone to hell, but there were lines they just couldn’t cross without permanently affecting their relationship…

            “Sorry,” murmured Dan, which only served to make Phil feel immediately guilty.

            “It’s okay. I know it can get confusing,” replied Phil. Almost as a peace treaty, he curled himself back around his brother, only this time resting his head to the side, staring at the kitchen tiles below. Through the fabric of Dan’s sweater, Phil could hear and feel his younger brother’s wild heartbeat.

            “I’m really sorry,” muttered Dan again. His voice sounded a bit rougher, so Phil started to stroke his sides gently.

            “It’s okay. _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Phil turned and kissed the back of Dan’s neck. Dan slowly reached foreword, flicked off the heat on the stock, then twisted around to face Phil, his bottom against the counter.

            “I’m not hungry,” he said. Phil didn’t bother putting space between them. He stood close to Dan and studied his face, which was decidedly more closed off and avoiding eye contact. Every muscle on Dan seemed to be tense like he was ready to run away at a moment’s notice. Guilt flew around wildly in Phil’s chest, scraping it’s wings against his ribcage, so he stepped foreword and kissed Dan gently on the mouth.

            Dan kissed back, catching Phil off guard by responding with a vigor that was both needy and desperate. The originally gentle kiss that was meant to comfort turned to Dan grabbing roughly at Phil’s hair and moaning into his mouth. Of course, Phil’s body responded to this, because there was a list of things that turned Phil on, and neediness was up there. Still, the nagging feeling in the back of Phil’s mind brought him to his senses.

            “Is something wrong?” Phil asked as soon he was able to get air. Dan took a step toward him, but Phil responded in turn with a step back. Upon closer examination of his face, Dan still avoided eye contact. It was obvious he was upset. Phil wasn’t sure to say about all of this. He loved Dan, but he also knew that the situation between them was precarious.

            “Let’s go to bed early. Sleep off this bad mood,” suggested Phil. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

            “It’s not even mid-afternoon,” replied Dan stubbornly. A flood of relief overtook Phil when he heard his brother’s usual sassy tone. Angry Dan was manageable, normal even.

            “A nap then. Neither of us are hungry right now anyway. It’ll save quite nice,” replied Phil. Despite the fact Dan had yet to look him head on, he nodded, and Phil was able to lead his little brother upstairs and into the bedroom. Brazenly, Phil shucked off his shirt and jeans, leaving on only boxer shorts. It wasn’t like Phil didn’t sleep in the same attire nearly every night (Christmas pajamas damned a long time ago), but in the soft light of the afternoon it all seemed more intimate. His bedroom had blackout curtains, but not good ones. Light still came into the room from the cracks between the curtains and illuminated the two men, who now watched each other with an excited curiosity. Dan pulled off his pants, then his shirt with a little hesitation, and quickly pulled himself under the green and blue duvet. Phil joined him.

            They curled into each other and fumbled a little as they tangled up their arms in legs in a gesture that had become second nature. Phil met Dan’s eyes then, and for a moment they watched each other, each completely uncertain about what the other was thinking.

            “Do you want to talk?” asked Phil softly. Dan closed his eyes and shook his head. Phil took this as a moment to pull his younger brother closer, then proceeded to bury his face into the crook of Dan’s neck. Dan smelled like his bedsheets and autumn air. They both sighed in contentment to be wrapped in each other’s embrace. It felt odd, doing this in the light of day, when so much of their bedtime touching had occurred strictly during the shade of night.

            Neither felt truly tired. In fact, between the smell of Phil, his touch, and just their general proximity, Dan felt his body reacting. A delicious curl ran up through his abdomen, and without even being touched Dan began to feel himself get hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will it away. It wasn’t like Dan hadn’t gotten hard in front of Phil before (in fact, it happened just about every night, like Dan was some kind of reactive teenager or something), but after the incredibly awkward conversation they just had, along with Dan’s royal romantic fuck up, all Dan wanted to do was get lost in Phil’s embrace with no other distractions.

 It wasn’t like Dan actually believed they were in some kind of fucked up romantic relationship, but to have Phil reject him so outright still stung. Dan knew Phil loved him like a brother; hell, Dan loved Phil like a brother, he just also happened to have other not-so-brotherly feelings mixed up in their as well. Dan’s fantasies of Phil never involved candle-lit dinners or proposals or any of that crap—just physical stuff. They were on the same page in that sense. Likewise, that day Phil had been charming, and sweet, and affectionate, and for a moment, Dan let himself entertain the idea. It was silly, Dan knew that, but to an extent he also knew that he could very well be developing a crush on his own brother. He told himself it would go away after a while, and in the meantime, there wouldn’t be any harm in fooling around.

It was decided. Dan pulled away from Phil’s hug to kiss him roughly. If Dan couldn’t get lost in affection, he very well could get lost in something else.

They kissed. Then they kissed some more. And some more. Dan slipped his tongue into Phil’s mouth, then pulled back to nip his lower lip. After a few nights of practice under his belt, Dan knew what kind of things got his older brother going. For one, Phil liked it rough, which surprised Dan because usually Phil was always so gentle in everything. Dan reached down and dug his finger nails into Phil’s hips, then moaned into his mouth softly. Phil always reacted when Dan was vocal, particularly to high pitched noises, to gentle little gasps, to submissive words. It wasn’t long until Phil’s erection also throbbed visibly beneath his boxers. It was getting warm. Phil kicked the covers off, then positioned himself atop Daniel. Dan smirked into the next kiss. In a very short time, Dan had already learned all the tricks to get Phil to match his own arousal; Dan knew exactly how to level the playing field.

With Dan on top and the heat of the duvet gone, he had a moment of clarity before going back to snogging his own brother. Phil knew Dan was probably still upset, and, as usual, he worried it was his fault. Likewise, Phil couldn’t help but like where this was going. For a moment, Phil allowed himself to loosen his tight reins a little bit. It was obvious that Dan wanted this; he reacted to each touch Phil gave him, each little caress or squeeze with the utmost enthusiasm. That neediness, no matter how sexy, had disappeared a bit, so Phil didn’t get the sense that Dan was at least actively worrying about whatever upset him. Phil decided that he didn’t need to either. For a moment, both boys let themselves go to what they wanted, and allowed themselves to get caught up in the moment with each other.

“Fuck,” gasped Dan as Phil began sucking at his neck. The heat between them surged as their erections were now pressed together with only the thin layers of underwear separating them. Pain bloomed where Phil gave Dan a hickey, but it also sent prickles of goosebumps down his arm, and Dan started moaning lewdly, which only egged Phil on.

“Fuck Phil, I want you to do so many dirty things to me,” mumbled Dan. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten chatty while they were messing around. Truthfully, Dan wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, and he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if Phil actually let them do more than just make out and caress each other.

“Yeah, like what?” mumbled Phil into Dan’s neck. That was a first. Usually, Phil just ignored him. Likewise, Dan didn’t hesitate, especially when Phil resumed nibbling and sucking at his neck.

“I want your cock, fuck, I want it inside me. Or at least your hands, your fingers. Would be so much better than my own, ah!” Dan gasped when Phil nipped at a particularly sensitive spot.

“You finger yourself?” asked Phil lightly. For a moment, Phil’s voice almost sounded normal, surprised even, but it still had a deeper intonation than what was typical. A blush spread up Dan’s face when Phil pulled back to look at him, blue eyes excited, dilated, and amused.

“Sometimes after you go to sleep,” admitted Dan “There’s lube in the bedside table.”

“You slutty thing,” chided Phil. Dan felt like he was going to cum right then and there just from the sound of Phil’s voice, the way it deepened with lust, the way it took on a commanding tone that made Dan’s stomach ache with arousal.

“I—Would you want to-to try?” asked Dan. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the rejection that was surely to come. Dan was sure he’d really done it this time and had finally pushed it too far.

“Yeah,” replied Phil. Dan’s eyes popped open. A moment ago, he’d been looking up at sex bomb Phil, the one who seemed straight out Dan’s wet dreams, but now he was looking up at his nervous older brother.

“Um, I mean, if it’s okay—we could try it and see, I guess,” replied Phil awkwardly. He sat back on his heels and the moment was broken between them, although their erections still strained in their underwear. Dan tried to swallow, but his throat was dry.

“I—I mean yeah, but are you sure? I thought you said we could only go so far…” Dan couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He should have been jumping at the opportunity! Dan wanted so, so badly for Phil to ignore him, push him down and grab his cock before Dan could say anything else stupid. Likewise, Phil, ever the big brother, considered for a moment before leaning over to rummage in the bedside table.

“I mean, this isn’t that far. It’s not like oral sex or anything intimate like that. We could try it out,” said Phil. His voice held onto whatever shred of collection he had left, carefully considering each word and breaking down the situation like it were a math problem.

“But I only want to do it if you are 100 percent certain and not only certain, but enthusiastic,” replied Phil sternly. In that moment, he found the slim bottle of unmarked lube stuffed in the very back of the drawer underneath a pile of old magazines. It was quite sneakily hidden and if it weren’t so ludicrous, Phil would have been impressed.

“I’m enthusiastic!” Dan said quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Phil couldn’t help but laugh. It broke the tension just a bit, so Dan laughed too. After a beat of silence passed, Dan curled up onto Phil’s lap, straddling his older brother back against the pillow. Biting his lip, Phil’s heart began to slam into his breastbone as Dan appraised him. The mood shifted from one of nervous confusion back to whatever heat had consumed them before.

“Alright then,” breathe Phil as he leaned back into the pillow “I guess we ought to give this a shot then.”

 

           

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment below if you enjoyed this chapter! Your comments seriously brighten my day and to be honest with y'all, I'm very nervous to delve into the world of smut writing. I really hope this doesn't end up super cheesy! Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is filthy smut, I'll be honest with you. If you are not into that, the rest of this fic might not be your cup of tea. If you skip to about halfway through, there is some dialogue and angst. Just a warning.

Dan’s mind looped on repeat as Phil kissed him: all he could think was _holy shit, holy shit, holy shit_. He didn’t know exactly what Phil’s plan was, but if the bottle of lube in his hand was any indication, Dan knew to be excited. They hadn’t gone past kissing and the occasional over-the-clothes touching at this point, as Phil always put the brakes on whenever Dan pushed for more.

            Dan’s body thrummed with excitement as he watched Phil flip up the cap on the bottle of cherry lube. Their eyes met as Phil poured a generous dollop onto his fingers. The air between them seemed charged, palpable enough that Phil felt it necessary to give a kind grin, his eyes softening a little as he watched Dan’s chest heave with excitement. He paused in his ministrations for a gentle kiss.

            “Is it okay if I…” Phil reached behind Dan, pulling at the band of his boxers experimentally. Dan nodded, at a loss for words, and sat up a little higher to pull off his underwear in one swing. He settled back on Phil’s lap with his body shaking in anticipation.

            “I’ve never done anything like this before,” admitted Dan. His voice sounded dry and scraped like he was getting a sore throat. He swallowed to compensate.

            “Do you want to st—”           

            “No!” exclaimed Dan. “Please? I really want to do this.” Again, Phil couldn’t help but smile fondly.

            “So enthusiastic,” praised Phil. He’d originally meant it to be playful, but lust colored voice and brought it down an octave. Dan whimpered pathetically. A blush was beginning to run down his neck from desire and in the back of Phil’s mind, he observed that Dan had never been prettier.

            “Yes, come on Phil, please,” begged Dan.

            “God, who knew you were such a desperate little slut,” murmured Phil in wonder. Usually, Phil wasn’t one for dirty talk, but then again Phil had never done something quite so filthy before. Despite the fact it was so wrong, Dan being Phil’s brother made the encounter feel all the more charged. Phil hadn’t exactly been with a lot of people, but unlike Dan, he had at least been with a few. Never before had anyone turned him on so wildly. The way Dan looked at him with such desperation and neediness sent blood rushing to Phil’s lower half. Dan’s tiny dick was throbbing visibly against his soft tummy and was so small Phil could fit the entire thing in his fist. With the hand that wasn’t reaching around, Phil grabbed Dan’s cock and began stroking it gently. Dan’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a quiet moan.

            “Never had anyone touch me before,” whispered Dan. Phil hummed and tightened his grip. The sight of Dan’s erection swallowed up by his hand only served to make Phil harder with precum now staining the outside of his boxers. He licked his lips.

            “Relax,” cooed Phil. He scooted back a bit, reaching over to get purchase on Dan’s neck, which he kissed in time to his strokes. Carefully, Phil pushed at the tight ring of Dan’s virgin ass with his lubed up fingers. It was obvious Dan was nervous or excited or both, so Phil continued his gentle ministrations. Dan soon relaxed into the pleasure and Phil was able to push one, then two fingers in.

            “Good boy,” mumbled Phil. Atop his lap, Dan was a moaning, babbling mess.

            “Oh God,” groaned Dan as Phil flicked his wrist, bumping the head of his small cock “This is so—I’m so—you’re so— mm pleases don’t stop, please big brother, feels so good.”

            “Holy shit, Dan,” groaned Phil. He leaned foreword, rested his head against Dan's shoulder, and pushed deeper. “That’s so fucking wrong.”

            “Good though,” moaned Dan. When Phil looked up, he found Dan’s eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, sweat beginning to form around his hairline. He looked wrecked.

            “You like this? Like having me play with your cute little ass?” said Phil, egging him on. Dan’s reply was another moan as Phil began to push in a third finger. It burned, of course, but it was a good burn. Dan’s entire body seemed to react and he rutted into Phil’s hand wantonly.

            “Yes,” muttered Dan, but before he could keep speaking, his voice pitched up in a squeak as Phil hit his prostate “Holy—yes, fuck, right there, please Phil, please take care of your little brother, please—”

            “I’ve got you, fuck.” Phil’s heart slammed against his chest as he sped up both with pumping Dan’s cock and his ass. Above him, Dan rutted and moaned, his hands finding purchase on Phil’s shoulders, nails digging in. He continued to carry on with the dirty talk, whining like an absolute slut, and the heat between them clouded Phil with lust.

            “I’m going to—”

            “Go ahead, you have your big brother’s permission.”

            With a girlish whimper, Dan’s cock began spilling seed onto Phil’s tightened fist. He came hard, jerking his hips foreword pathetically as his ass tightened like a vice around Phil’s fingers which, truthfully, Phil wished was his cock.

            “Holy shit,” muttered Dan. His body shivered again in aftershock and his panted like he’d just ran a marathon. Slowly, Phil pulled out his fingers. When he let go of Dan’s cock his hand hovered for a moment above them, unsure what to do, then he ended up wiping the cum on the bed sheets despite the fact it was a little gross. Dan flopped beside him in the bed and they both stared up the ceiling in shock.

            Unlike Dan, Phil wasn’t sated, so it took a few moments of him sorting through his lingering lust to come back to reality. When it finally set in, Phil began to panic.

            “Fuck, what did we just do?!” exclaimed Phil, sitting up suddenly. Crossing the room, Phil yanked on his shirt, suddenly feeling extremely exposed. In the bed, Dan sat up slowly, and pulled a blanket over his lower half. He watched as Phil began pacing the room in worry, running a hand through his sweaty hair and nearly tripping over himself. Dan looked down as he tried to process what had just occurred. A minute ago, Phil had given Dan the most mind blowing orgasm of his life, and Dan was nothing but happy about it. Then less than a second later, Dan sat alone on the bed, covered with hickeys and body still not dried of sweat while Phil shook his head in denial.

            “What? It’s not like we had sex or anything,” said Dan.

            “Dan, I don’t think you understand. I just—We just—God I can’t even say it!” Phil grabbed at his hair “It wasn’t supposed to go this far!” Dan pulled the sheets up even higher in an attempt to hide the hickeys blooming purple across his neck. He looked up owlishly at Phil who refused to meet his gaze.

            “Oh,” Dan whispered “I thought it was worth it. I’m-I’m sorry.” Phil paused in his pacing and turned to face Dan, who, embarrassingly enough, was on the edge of tears. As if Phil hadn’t felt guilty enough, Dan bit his lip and tried to hold back from crying. Sighing, Phil climbed back into bed, pulled the sheets away, and enveloped Dan into hug.

            “No, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I’m the oldest, I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around,” whispered Phil. He held Dan against him, felt his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin. Phil bowed his head and sighed into Dan’s neck. It was warm and comforting.

            “I thought that _was_ you taking care of me,” said Dan.

            “Dan, we can’t do that ever again,” warned Phil. They broke apart as Dan pulled away. Phil examined his face and found no defeat or sadness left, but instead a pouty, bratty anger.

            “Why the hell not?” countered Dan “We’re consenting adults. We had fun. Not to mention there’s nothing else to do with the internet gone.”

            “Do you not understand we are literally biological brothers? When the world goes back to normal, so will we. Do you really think we could keep this up? People would notice!” replied Phil. Dan scooted back and glared at him.

            “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think the world is going back to normal,” Dan paused for a moment, considering “And besides, even if it did, it’s not like my feelings for you are going to go away!”

            “What do you mean your feelings for me?” asked Phil suddenly. At this, Dan colored, then he quickly stepped out of bed to yank on his underwear angrily and cross to the other side of the room. Outside, it was heading into twilight, and the light streamed into the bedroom dreary and grey.

            “Just forget it!” said Dan, turning to face away from him. “God, I didn’t realize fooling around was that absolutely disgusting for you. You know, you didn’t have to jerk me off. I could have handled it myself.” Phil groaned in anger and grabbed at his hair again, this time out of frustration.

            “God, don’t _you know_ that’s not what it’s about! Are you stupid? Of course I enjoyed myself. That doesn’t mean it was morally right,” replied Phil. He took a step toward Dan and reached to grab his shoulder, but Dan jerked away with a nasty look.

            “Oh, I see, so now you’re suddenly Mr. Perfect again. Can’t have a weird incestual fling with your gross sinful brother, can we? So easy for you when literally any guy would chop off his dick for a chance to be with you.”

            “You act like I’m some kind of hot piece that everyone was dying to get with before the aliens took over the world,” shot back Phil.

            “You were to me!” exclaimed Dan. Then, back pedaling, he added. “No, but I get it, we’re never doing this again even though it was your fucking idea in the first place.”

            “Goddamit Dan!” yelled Phil “Do you have any idea how completely fucking thick you can be sometimes? We. Are. Siblings. It’s not okay if we want to fuck.”

            “I’m sorry, I can’t take you seriously when less than fifteen minutes ago you were wiping my cum off your hands. It doesn’t matter what’s okay or not. What does matter is your inability to decide what you want! Don’t say you want to do something then turn around and regret the next minute. It’s exhausting me, you stupid fucking idiot!” yelled Dan. There was a lull in their fight, long enough that both brothers were able to glare at each other before coming together and kissing all over again. Phil pulled Dan to the ground and they kneeled as if in a messed up prayer, pressing their bodies together. Dan tangled his hands in Phil’s hair, and Phil grabbed the back of Dan’s already bruised neck. When they both pulled out of the kiss, Phil leaning back against his heels and Dan staggering to stand, they stared at each other a little dumbfounded.

            “I’m sorry,” the both said at the same time. Phil scratched the back of his neck and Dan dug a toe into the carpet. Another silence.

            “I don’t actually regret what we did,” said Phil at last “I just worry about us. About you, mostly. I don’t want this to get in the way of us being brothers. I love you, Dan. I always have loved you. You’re my little brother and you’re special to me. I’m not going to lie and say we don’t have chemistry, but you’re my sibling first and that’s what is the most important.”

            Dan suddenly wanted to leave. He didn’t understand why, considering everything Phil was saying was sweet and nice and comforting. Yet, something bothered Dan about the way Phil regarded him.   

            “I’m sorry if I pressured you,” mumbled Dan in response. Phil stood up, walked over to him, and pulled Dan into another hug. Without letting go, he spoke again.

            “You didn’t pressure me in any way. I’m sorry if I made you felt like I didn’t enjoy what we just did,” Phil continued to hold on, hesitating before saying the next part. “And I’m not opposed to doing this again. But we just need to be careful.”

            Dan wanted to ask what they needed to be careful with: their actions or their feelings. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. When Phil pulled away, he opened his mouth to say something about dinner, but was interrupted by a crash in the kitchen.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to say this at the start, but this is my first time writing true smut. Here's what I learned:  
> 1\. There are only so many words for "cock."  
> 2\. Jizz can never sound appealing so don't even try.   
> 3\. When the smut scene is between two male-identifying people, the usage of "he" can become very confusing.   
> 4\. Are there any actual words for asshole that are kind of sexy? Back door? Behind? Puckered hole? I don't know, none of them sound appealing to me.   
> 5\. I feel weird because yes I gave Dan a tiny dick and yes he "bottomed" but like those are so tropey also irl queer folk don't have "bottoms" and "tops" like that's such a heteronormative concept. I promise here and now Phil will do some butt stuff too, in this household we don't fuck with heteronormativity.   
> 6\. Writing smut can sometimes make you horny? Like I knew reading it did, but I didn't think writing it would make me horny. Maybe it's because I'm demisexual and spiritually connected to my work. Or maybe it's just because I'm weird.   
> 7\. "How many times am I going to mention they're brothers?" I ask myself as I write the words "big brother please."  
> 8\. You have no idea how many times I wrote "Daddy" then backspaced aggressively.   
> 9\. "Wait, where is he? Who's on top again? Ah shit, I just used that same line like 4 pages ago. Fuck."  
> 10\. The original plan was to have them angst it up after sex but then it just turned into more making out. This is because I liked writing smut and want to write more again. 
> 
> So how did I do, smut experts? Was it good? Comment below what you think! (Also if you have any sexy words for asshole, please share.)


End file.
